Duet
by ScaraMedn
Summary: When Judy tracks Nick down in the islands, she's hoping fix a mistake she made four years ago. Will the elusive fox give her a chance, or will his pain force him to run again?
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

I know. I know. Another new story. I regret nothing.

This is a collaborative work. I had the honor and pleasure of working with Blueberryandhoney on this story. I hope you, gentle reader, enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it with her.

Special thanks are due to OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing, Cimar for beta reading and kt_valmiri for sound boarding and support. You guys are the best and I am endlessly grateful.

Now, on with the show.

* * *

Sunset at sea was beautiful, as always. The spectrum of colors reflecting on the water brought a desperately needed sense of peace, though never quite enough. The tranquility and the song of nature as it could only be experienced here was exactly what the sole mammal aboard was after. It was why he'd purchased the boat and sailed away four years ago. To escape his old life and find music that didn't remind him of anything anymore. It was his retirement. Early—but unavoidable.

The deck chair held him up, and the cooler at his elbow held everything he needed: cold beer inside and nibbles on top. He had enough for another week away from port stowed in the cabin—longer if he rationed. There was nothing to do but enjoy the sunset. As the sun dipped below the horizon and became a sliver, the color he loved and loathed painted the sky. The rich purple bloomed and the ache in his chest mirrored it. He missed her. Still.

The phone rang. He answered it. "Joey."

"Nick! Sorry for calling at a bad time. I need to know when you were going to make it back to port?"

"Which port?" The boat's occupant sighed.

"Mine, of course. This is where you make berth. The registration says so and everything," insisted the voice on the other end.

"Dunno, Joe. A week. Maybe two. Whenever I'm back out that way. Why?"

"I've got a lot of work lined up for you. If you don't get here, you'll lose the fares."

Nick shifted the phone to his other paw. "I'm not in it for the money."

"I am, Nick," Joey whined. "I need my cut of your work."

"There are other boats."

"But yours is the one they want. I don't know what you do, but all I get is rave reviews. Word of mouth is doing a ton of good for your business, and you aren't taking it! What gives?" Joey was obviously frustrated and confused at Nick's lack of financial drive.

"If you're worried about losing money, just triple my prices. That should cover it. Play up the exclusivity and rareness. That'll work."

"This isn't your old gig back in the city, Nick. It doesn't work the same way."

"Try it anyway." Nick killed the call and dropped the phone back into the cupholder it came from.

This was the time of day he lived for. Masochistic, yes, but he had nothing else. His life was wandering the ocean's byways, ferrying tourists around for a little extra cash. A far cry from his hustling days in the music industry where every moment was adrenalin-filled mania. When he made port, Nick did his banking, resupplied, and took on a few holiday-makers before setting out to sea again. He'd dump them at whatever port they wanted and be gone as soon as he got his pay. Then it was him, the sea, and the sunset until he ran out of provisions. It was a simple life.

He was sipping his beer and savoring last of the celestial light show when his phone rang—again. The one carryover from his old days was the number he'd kept when his smartphone was upgraded to satellite access. There were a few mammals ashore he cared to keep in touch with, and they all knew not to call at sunset. Joe, the manatee manager of his registered docking, got away with it—but only just.

"Speak of the devil, and he appears…" The steel drum ringtone was jarring against the quiet of the wind and water. "What, Joe?"

"You know what," wheedled the manatee.

"At least two weeks."

"Come on, Slick. Please? You could make a killing! It's honeymoon season! Every couple on this island wants a ride on the Amaranthine with its functional mute of a captain. That romantic mystique you've got going is killer for the tourists!"

Nick's voice was colder than January in the Arctic Straits. "What did you call me?"

"What? Oh…"

"Do you remember the last conversation we had where you used that name?"

"I… Oh, shit. Yes… Sorry, Nick."

"Not. Your. Name. To. Use."

The growling tone seemed to bring out the manatee's sense of self-preservation, and Joey sounded genuinely contrite when he responded, "I know. I'm sorry."

"I have provisions for eight days." He ended the call, only to hear a familiar tone jangle moments later. Joe loved bugging him. It was always about work. Usually.

"What is so important that I needed three calls at sunset?"

"There's a fare here…" came the hesitant reply.

"Joe, I don't care how many couples want a romantic ride on my boat." Now there was more than a hint of growl in Nick's voice. "I'll be back in eight days. Have an auction if that works for you, but I am not coming back any sooner." All he wanted was peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask for?

"But this fare—"

"Can wait. If they want me, they'll wait. If not, there are plenty of boats."

"Nick, this isn't—"

He ended the call. If Joey was smart, and he usually was, he'd leave it at that.

Nick settled back into his chair and lifted his beer, again. He loved this time of day, even in the face of irritating aquatic mammals bothering him about work. For just a moment, the purple was the same shade as her eyes, and it was like she was there again. He sipped and watched the sky until the last dregs in his beer can went the way of the last lights. Then the show was over, and he had things to do. Nick put away the food and secured the cooler. A few minutes later, he was asleep under the stars, dreaming of how it had all begun.

In his dreamscape, it was still six years ago. He was sitting in yet another little cabaret, nursing a moderate lowball of rotgut whiskey. A fox in a nice suit in a dive. He was bored. A little distracted, too. Nothing was exactly wrong, but certainly not right.

Nick had spent the majority of his career in music as a recruiter and talent agent. He'd found his fair share of good ones, making his mark as a clever agent and a ruthless negotiator. His many successes had gained him a reputation and a solid income. That wasn't to say he hadn't had his share of failures. Life was a mix of ups and downs in the industry—like notes on sheet music. Sound and silence.

His last crescendo, apparently, had been a while ago. His standing clients were solid, but he missed having a challenge, and new talent was always a challenge. He likened it to singing a duet. Finding a way to sing in harmony with a new personality was always fraught with worthy challenges. That desire for the new—along with his recent stagnation—was why he was sitting in a smoky hole in the wall, nursing his glass and fiddling with his pocket-watch. At least, that was what Nick would have liked to say.

Not for the first time that evening, he shot a dirty look at his business acquaintance, Finnick. The miserable little sod was at the bar, drinking his weight in beer every ten minutes and hitting on anything that caught his eye. The one consolation was that Nick would get to watch the little menace either try to pick a fight or pick up his reflection in the bar mirror by the end of the night.

When they'd arrived, he'd asked Finnick why they always ended up in these seedy little dives. The answer had not been pleasing.

"Two words, Wilde: Finder's fee. Plus, you get to put your meals and business expenses on your work account, so I get to drink for free on your dime. And you can't whine about it."

"Really, Finn? I'm not feeling the love here."

"All you gotta do is sit there, listen to this crap you call music, and pick up the tab at the end of the night."

Nick had tilted his head to gaze at the smaller vulpine. "So, it's trading my boredom for your beer. Great deal for me."

"Like you got anything else going on, Mister 'No-Vixen-Cuts-It'. Your sorry ass may be fine with spending the rest of your nights alone, but I'm not. Gotta use the pencil while there's still lead in it, you know?" Finnick had laughed at his own attempt at humor and saluted Nick with his beer mug.

"What a… vivid metaphor."

"You know I hate it when you use words I don't know."

"Since I'm paying for your drinks, that's your problem."

"Whatever." Finn had shot his companion a dirty look and taken a long pull from his beer. Swallowing, he'd turned to Nick and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find a little curvier company. If you need anything, I'll be at the bar. You can ask the barman to give you a hand, 'cause I'll be busy." His piece said, the fennec fox had pounded the rest of his beer, hopped to floor, and padded off to the bar. He'd been there since.

Nick was bored.

Not a single act had impressed him. All the musicians and singers possessed talent. All were practiced. Skilled. Unimpressive. They all were told by mommy and daddy that they'd be stars one day, and they had certainly tried. If mediocrity was in vogue, every one of them would be on magazine covers.

Nick was contemplating calling it a night when the next act was announced. He didn't even look up. He wasn't there for the scenery. He was there for the sound. He wanted something magical to make the evening worth the effort of even getting dressed. So few lately had been even worth waking up for

He waved down the waitress in the too-short cocktail dress who had been giving him doe eyes all evening.

"Listen, Sweetheart, I'm feeling like something a little more fun than this fine spirit. Got any suggestions?"

She giggled all the way to her hips. "How about an absinth?"

"Chasing the green, scaled fairy?"

"It's a hell of a drink, or so I hear," she said with a pout.

"Never had it?" he asked.

She leaned in, very openly displaying herself for his enjoyment. "No one to buy it for me."

"I see. For the moment, one for me, if you please."

"And for me, Slick?"

"If you're a good girl, we'll talk after your shift." He punctuated his suggestion with a wink.

The grin she wore as she walked away and the change in her scent told him he'd have her number and the cocktail in under ten minutes. If he wanted, he could have her in twelve, on shift or not. If he wanted. He didn't. Truth told, Nick had no interest at all in her or whatever was under her too-tight wrappings. That was a Yule present some other shmuck could unwrap. However, it was wiser to let her think he was. He didn't want a saliva-based additive in his drink, for one thing.

The drink appeared eight minutes later, along with her number and the time her shift would be done scrawled on a bar napkin. As she left, he got a full sideview of hip with a pheromone chaser. Keeping his eyes from imitating the wheel had never been so challenging. There had once been a great appeal for him in the assertive nature of his species' females. It took all the guesswork out of the equation and there was nothing like having a female make straight for you to deliver an ego boost. In that moment, you knew you were smokin' hot.

Nick's somnolent trip down memory lane was interrupted by an irritating clanging sound, and his eyes popped open. It was dawn. Far too damn early for steel drums. At least Nick's nuisance had waited until morning.

"Joe, I swear to whatever gods there are out here…"

"Nick! Nick, I know. Trust me. This fare will not take no for an answer. This panther has come in every hour the office has been open. He was waiting here when I arrived this morning!"

"You're making me want to stretch my provisions," the fox growled.

"Please! This guy could give a honey badger lessons on tenacity. He's wearing a suit. In this weather. He's either insane, or heat doesn't bother him because he's from Hell itself."

"I'll see you in a month."

"NO! Nicolas Wilde, I swear, I will call your mother if I have to. Please, come back today," Joey begged. "It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Eight days, Joe. Take it or leave it."

"I'll throw in a case of beer and a voucher for the general store."

"Eight."

"Will two cases get me six?" the manatee continued to bargain.

"Bye."

"Don't—!"

Nick ended the call.

He flopped back onto the seat he routinely made his bed and picked up where the dream left off. It didn't take dreams for him to relive it. It was always right there on the tip of his mind.

That night, featherlight strokes across ivory keys tickled his ears and they flicked. A light, somber melody. Peaceful, mourning—yet cheerful. Pleasant enough. He'd heard worse and better. Played from the soul, a piano was second only to the violin for evocation, in his opinion, and followed shortly by the guitar. Blues were his bread and butter. It also paid the bills. Years of hearing cut-rate music had desensitized him. It took a little more than pretty key-work to make him care. Then, the voice joined the music and Nick's world shrank.

A smooth, vibrant soprano rolled across the room. Strident, evocative, burning with emotion. Nick didn't hear the words. He felt them. The music was a lover's caress to his weary mind. For the first time in months, a genuine smile crept onto his face.

The voice was sweet—well trained and practiced—just like all the others, but there was a quality to it that was new. The depth of feeling in every note was staggering. The singer knew pain and loss, joy and disappointment, delight and passion. In every syllable, the emotion of the singer's experiences was felt. It left Nick Wilde, hardened talent agent, breathless. His eyes stung as tears he would later deny began to form. He let his mind and heart twine with the music and (for a little while) forgot about the dirty cabaret, his truculent companion, and overly friendly waitresses.

All too soon, the music drew towards a gentle conclusion, and Nick opened his eyes. Sitting at the piano was a small grey rabbit. He blinked. Petite, pretty as rabbits went, in a lounge dress. She had her eyes closed and swayed with her creation, coaxing the melody into life with a delicate yet firm touch. Not even close to his expectations, not that he knew what he'd expected at that point.

She crooned out her last notes, and her eyes drifted open, as did Nick's mouth. Amaranthine eyes limned with tears raked over the crowd, and the fox at table seven forgot to breathe.

Many times he'd experienced the long fall into, and the tiny stumble out of, love. He'd given up on finding his soulmate long ago. Many times, he'd joked about falling tail over teakettle for an artist's music and had lied every time. He loved music, but had never found anything that truly captivated him.

Until that moment.

His phone rang, again, pulling him from his nostalgia. Nick was getting irritated. This was exactly the kind of nonsense he'd cut so many ties to get away from. If it was Joe, he'd have a few choice four-letter words for the manatee—but it wasn't Joe's ringtone. Just the generic incoming call notification. A russet paw slipped off the bench and picked up the device. Without bothering to look at the screen, he thumb-tapped the power button to decline the call and then held it. As soon as the shutdown sound effect played, the paw went slack and the electronic poptart flopped onto the waiting towel beneath it.

Nick went through the motions of unearthing breakfast before making sail and moving to his next destination. He didn't have one in mind, but he liked to keep moving.

"Part of my mystique," he mused to himself. "The gypsy of the waterways and the boat with the strange name…"

The name was no accident. He'd just never explained. Not even to the people brave enough to ask him.

Something in him had changed the moment his eyes met hers. Those huge wells of purple emotion had sucked him in, and he'd drowned in them. Nick didn't know it at the time—and he refused to say it out loud now—but it was love at first sight. One-sided and unrequited, ass-over-teakettle love. That was why he'd gone toe-to-toe with the cabaret owner over the terms of her employment, eventually bringing in his own lawyer to facilitate the termination. The little hare had been furious, but impotent. He'd known his contract was unethical and doomed under legal scrutiny. Once Nick had the papers signed nullifying her agreement with the cabaret, Nick had offered her his services as an agent.

He'd spent two years grooming her for her debut. Lessons and studio sessions, consultations and coaches—the time had flown by. At the time, he'd been too busy to admit it, but he'd been happy. It had never been stated, but she'd made it clear that love wasn't in her career plan. She was too focused on her music for anything like that. Her past was plenty enough inspiration, according to her, and—as cryptic as it was—Nick understood that was as far as she was willing to discuss it.

He hadn't give up hope, though—right up to the day she'd hit the bigtime and gotten the contract that had made her a star. The little things he had done to show how much he cared were important to him, even though he'd known she'd never catch on. Once she had signed, he'd gotten his cut and it had been worth the investment. The proceeds still came in as part of the contract he had with her. Her manager saw to that. It was plenty and then some to keep him comfortable for the rest of his life. That was not to say he was retiring. At least, that hadn't been Nick's first thought.

It had taken a while for him to realize it, but he needed to get away. After two years of working with her so closely and investing so much into her, nothing was the same. Cabarets and music halls were lifeless places. He could have reconnected with Finnick and gone hunting for another talent to cultivate, but there was no joy in it anymore. His restlessness had grown until it was a plague on his mind. About four months after she'd left, Nick had cracked like an egg in a microwave.

"What the hell do you mean you're leaving?" His mother had been furious.

"Just what I said. Take what you want from my flat, just make sure it's before Thursday. The house clearing crew comes then." The lack of emotion in his voice was in direct contrast to fragile state of his heart.

"I don't understand. Where are you going?"

Flashing his patented smirk, even knowing she couldn't see him, he told her, "I'll figure it out when I get there."

"You're too old for this kind of nonsense," the elderly vixen had groused. "And to tell your mother with a text message! Really!"

"I knew you'd call immediately."

"And that somehow makes it better?"

"You only answer once in a while when I call. This way I knew you'd hear it from me." He could vividly imagine her look of exasperation.

"Oh, very funny. Now, where are you going, you little idiot?"

"Away."

"I do not approve." She sniffed.

He could only shake his head at her passive-aggressive tactics. "I don't need you to. If you're going to be a misery about it, call me when you're feeling less whiny. I have a plane to catch."

"To where?!"

"Anywhere."

She hadn't spoken to him for all of a day before starting her campaign to get him to come home. It ultimately failed. There was nothing for him to come back to. Nick had sold or donated everything he owned and broken his lease. His mail had been sent to a forwarding agency. He'd cut ties with his old crew and friends, for the most part. Only four mammals knew where he'd gone or how to get in touch with him. The list of blocked numbers on his phone was almost absurdly long.

He'd wandered for a bit, but eventually found himself in the islands. There were boats for sale, and he'd found one that he could handle himself and make a buck with from time to time. A few weeks of lessons and some time on the water saw Nicolas Wilde leave land behind for the first time. That night, he'd watched the sunset and fallen in love all over again. His life had become a pattern. The island was never the same twice in a row and the lengths of time at sea were different every time, but the pattern never varied. The sea was where he found the little bit of her he was allowed, and that was where he tried to stay.

Over the following week, the phone rang often. If it wasn't a number he recognized, Nick blocked it. He must have gotten added to a marketing list or something again. It wasn't important. He didn't have a life on land, so anything they might have sold him wasn't an interest. He'd once gotten a call, shortly after getting his boat, about deals on a cruise liner. The salesmammal hadn't appreciated the ten-minute bout of laughter.

Nick made port after eight days, as promised. His phone had finally stopped ringing so much, and he was feeling less harassed. He made the bank and shops in good time. There was no rush, but he liked getting to the marina office earlier rather than later as picking up his fares tended to be an ordeal.

It was almost always a family or a honeymooning couple— mammals who wanted an interesting experience to tell their friends and family about when they got home. Nothing impressive. Just the way he liked it.

This time, however, he got a nasty little surprise.

"What do you mean a singleton fare?"

"I mean exactly that, Nicky boy. Singleton fare, as in one mammal."

The todd made a face and rolled his eyes. "That means they'll want to talk or something. I told you that's what I wanted to avoid."

"This character offered ten times your rate," Joey crowed gleefully, though, to his credit, he tried to keep his enthusiasm to a dull roar.

"Didn't you triple it?"

"Twice."

That got Nick's attention. "I don't care about the money."

"You don't, but I do. Ten times the twice-tripled fare, translates to ninety times my usual cut. You can take it or pay the back the dock fees I've been writing off."

"Come on, Joey. Don't you have anything else?"

"This fare asked for you specifically and has waited around the whole time. So, no. As far as you're concerned, this is the only fare on the island."

"Fine…" he growled, rubbing a paw over his face and muzzle. "Where are they?"

"I showed them to your mooring while you were out." Wasn't that ever so helpful?

"Thanks," Nick grumped. "Make sure the money is transferred before I make land."

"Less my cut, of course."

Nick left the office and grumbled his way back to his mooring, barely paying attention to his surroundings. He was so engrossed in pouting over this inconvenience that he almost missed the fact that his fare was already there. He had one paw on the gunwale when he heard the voice that haunted his memories.

"Hey, Slick. Where do I stow my bag?"

His head rose slowly towards the sound, hoping he wasn't dreaming while dreading that he wasn't.

Standing on the quayside, just beside the piling he had passed, was Judy. The same silken soprano and sucker-punch eyes wearing a sundress. The stained canvas duffel she'd always had was by her feet along with her guitar case, looking like it had made love to a tornado. The same one he'd spent so many nights ribbing her for keeping once she could afford a replacement.

Nick didn't realize anything was wrong until he'd hit the water.


	2. Chapter 2

Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes, you can go for years with a full understanding of the world and the events that have brought you to the present. Then, one mammal says something, and your memory comes back to bite you right on the fluffy tail. Though in this case, it was more of a series of somethings.

Judy Hopps had risen from a musical nobody working in a shabby cabaret to a star collaborating with Gazelle and packing venues to the gills. She hadn't done it alone. Not at all. She'd had help. Lots of it. Mostly from one exceptional mammal. The very same one she'd had her assistant trying to arrange a meeting with for over a week.

"Still nothing?" Judy asked the moment the overheated felid walked in the door.

All she got was a tired shake of the head before he flopped into the chair and started guzzling water. The unfortunate jaguar had spent more time in the marina office than Judy felt was reasonable. That said, she was a bit confused why he'd insisted on his full suit and tie to go out in tropical heat, but it had been his choice. She just refilled the pitcher with clean water and let him drink.

Judy wasn't like a fair few other starlets in the industry who felt they were too good to do the real work. In her way of thinking, an assistant was there to actually assist her, not to do everything while she relaxed. Her upbringing saw to her work ethic and fair treatment towards those around her, and the mammals she worked with appreciated it. Her ambition saw to the rest.

"Hard work pays off" was what her family had taught her. She had proven that. For over a decade, she'd chased her dream of stardom, earning her everything through honest work and patience. The four years since her big break had finally established her as a musical success. She had done her share and now used that example to encourage others.

Those years leading up to her discovery were a hell of a ride. Studio time, months of songwriting, performances, collaborations, consultations, networking, and endless nights spent awake, running it all through her head over again. At times, the nights passed with her laying prone, staring at the ceiling; others, they were in a certain mammal's company, sitting up over coffee.

That hadn't changed much after she'd made it big—or so she thought. She still had an itch to scratch. She still stared at her ceiling. She still reflected over coffee. However, now it was coffee for one, and that was—in part—why she'd been staring at the ceiling late at night. It had taken her four years to realize it, but when she had, it hurt. She missed him.

After her last tour, she'd taken a little time off to destress and get ready for her new album—or so she'd told the reporters and her fans. In truth, it had been anything but restful. Prepping for a new album was a massive slog and stressful as hell. It did, however, give her occasional nights where she wasn't performing until the wee hours or unwinding after a show. The occasional long stretch of dead time was a pleasure at first, but then she'd had time to think. Her thinking had led to reminiscing about where she'd come from, back to the time before her big contract and who had helped her get it.

She'd realized a few things, which had led to a long-overdue vacation and a search for someone. Someone who she hadn't realized until four years too late was the reason rooms were bright and her music was sweet. She had been able to ignore the emptiness she'd felt by saying it was just the tour or the performance or the recording session—it was just this, or it was just that. It was just a load of excuses.

Now, it was just this unbearable need to see him once more, and that was that.

Judy was fighting butterflies in her stomach while waiting impatiently. Raul had finally gotten the Harbormaster to confirm when the boat that she wanted would be in dock. She had offered, and paid, an absurd amount of money for the reservation. But it was worth it, and she could absolutely afford it now. She wasn't a spendthrift by nature, so she had a fair bit saved. More than enough to cover a plane ticket, a week or so on a beautiful tropical island, and a boat ride—and maybe, just maybe, a second chance.

The butterflies that fluttered in her stomach swarmed when she saw her boat come in.

The Amaranthine was a beautiful sailboat. Judy knew very little about anything nautical, but she was impressed by it nonetheless. The boat was stately, in a weathered way. One mast with furled sails. Large, Judy thought, considering it was crewed by one mammal—and a fox at that—but there was no evidence of discomfort in the ship's handling as she glided her way to dock.

Judy knew it was the boat that she was looking for from the distinctive purple scrollwork and the painted name—exactly the color of her eyes. The confirmation of that suspicion led her heart to racing and ruined her first attempt to say hello. She couldn't manage to stand and speak.

It got worse when she saw him for the first time after so long, gliding past at the wheel. Judy watched, unable to make a sound. She had forgotten how beautiful he was. Even weathered and sun bleached, he was beautiful.

Whenever her eyes closed and the memory of their first meeting drew back to the surface of her mind, it seemed everything was greyscale: black and white. The club, the patrons, the stage… all whitewashed and dull—no color at all in that little world—until her eyes were drawn to his bright, fiery red fur.

His eyes were closed as he sat at his little table, nursing something in a short glass. It was clear he was bracing for mediocrity. Judy knew that not every act was a winner, but for some reason his assumption that she would be terrible irked her. Who was she to turn down a challenge?

She felt the keys of the piano under her paws. The notes she echoed through the club were as natural to her as breathing. And just as necessary. Every moment of her day was mapped out to this point right here. Her every decision since she was a kit in Bunny Burrow to the moment she posed her paws over that beautiful instrument. All of her being—her mind, her body, her soul—belonged to this moment.

She let her music soar that night, just to surprise the fox at table seven. Of all the choices she'd made in her life, that was one she had never regretted. Her music that night was a throaty, sonorous croon filled with nostalgia and longing—confusion and regret for missed opportunities. It was a direct pull from her own history and had been part of her healing. Every keystroke was a balm. Every word a prayer. Every sway of her head and body was a release as she let her purpose translate into the only thing she knew and wanted. It was hers. It was all she needed. Her music.

When or why her eyes filled with tears, she didn't know, but they spilled over as she looked out towards the audience. Her ears had flushed ever so slightly. They always did when she sang from the soul. And, suddenly, there was added heat suffusing her as she looked at table seve and the pair of hungry, slightly astonished green eyes that watched her.

It was the start of something magical.

Watching the well-traveled boat as it was maneuvered into the dock, Judy felt her pulse quicken to dangerous levels. She had composed a hit album with Gazelle and toured sold out shows around the globe with less nerves than what she felt now. Years of school, practice, and performing for Harey's Cabaret had taught her to lock the anxiety away and let the piano throw away the key, but this was a different creature altogether. She was speechless as he tied off the Amaranthine to the dock and stomped off to the marina office.

She'd wanted him that first night in the cabaret. There was something about him. Something that kept her thinking of him. It was a continuing theme for their partnership. No other agent, no other mammal, looked at her the way he had—not with that emotion lurking behind his eyes. It was something he'd never spoken of, and she had always promised herself the time to spend figuring out what exactly it was—right after she was a success.

That look had tempted her to throw it all away in hopes of getting the words out of him. But concerns and worries had kept her guessing, trying to convince herself he'd wanted nothing more than the handsome royalties he'd gotten from their partnership. She had wanted him then, but at the time, she'd thought she wanted the moon and stars more. It had cost her.

* * *

Her set had four more songs in it before she relinquished her seat. The stage was reset by a couple stagehands as the doe slinked off the stage. She felt her body flush as she tried to ignore the shimmering green eyes that followed her while she crossed the seating area to the bar. Those almost primal eyes, in the body of what should be her natural enemy, focused on her every dainty step of the way. Judy very rightly felt terrified. Though not for the same reasons her ancestors would have been.

"One carrot cake, will you, Larry?" The white wolf winked as he mixed up her drink, a combination of butterscotch schnapps, cinnamon schnapps, and Irish cream.

A deep, slightly slurry baritone pulled her mind from table seven to the stool next to her. "Mmmmm-hmm! Damn it all if that dress don't make a male weak in the knees."

The comment garnered a snort from Larry. The bunny took a slow sip of her drink before casting her eyes towards the fennec, his gaze ever so slightly glassy with a lopsided grin and bear sized drink in hand. She recognized him almost immediately.

Her weekend gigs at the coffee house occasionally brought in business for the cabaret. Judy remembered this fennec as the one who'd promised to bring in a big-time agent to see her perform. A promise she'd known she couldn't trust. And not just due to his species.

A deal with a 'famous' agent in exchange for a physical preview of her talents was his more sober offer. Cliched, but, more often than not, males thought she would be desperate enough to fall for it. There were plenty of females who would trade their body and one night of lukewarm passion for the hope that someone would sign her and take her away from it all.

The cabaret owner was one of the males who was less subtle about it. Harey was constantly pushing his own contract on her. His assertions that no other night club, lounge, or even kits' birthday parties would hire her festered in her ears and goaded her. The lack of response she'd goten was proof, he said. It was futile to keep track of the number of auditions she had gone to. They were always filled with females of every age and species, all beautiful and all with desperate smiles on their muzzles. All, including herself, waiting for judgment on their hard work and talent. Only to be overlooked. It seemed her morals, and legs, needed to be spread a bit further for her to get another gig.

She would have to sign with Harey eventually. She was contracted to the club as part of getting hired into the rotation, but that was merely a formality and only minimally binding for either of them—or so she had been told. There was a lot of fine print that Judy hadn't been able to follow and in the months since her first night on stage, she'd heard plenty of nasty stories. The anxiety from that and the threats of having her act cut brought more panic to her than the paws that tried to work their way over her shoulders after every performance. At least this was a devil she knew. It was comforting to think she was smart enough to recognize empty promises, but who knew if she was strong enough to refuse Harey for much longer. A bunny needed to eat.

"Good thing you're sitting then. These stools are pretty high up, and we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," Judy quipped to the drunken fox next to her. She flashed a smile at him before returning her attention to the glass in her hands.

Judy's ears were up, scanning the room for the familiar paw steps of the cabaret owner. She had, at most, five minutes to brace herself before he'd be back with his little game. This time, however, the steps she heard were heavier than the hare's. Heavier, but more calculated. More graceful and smooth—like a riptide disguised as a wave. Or a predator hunting its prey.

"Now I see why you brought me here, Finn." A paw came to rest on the opposite side of her. The voice slid from her ears to her belly like melted sugar. Judy turned her head to look up into those same green eyes that had burned into hers after that first song. She barely registered the paw held out to her or even taking it into her own.

"Nick Wilde. I'd like to make you a star."

Nick Wilde… Nick. Wilde. As in the "Nick Wilde" of Wilde Records wanted to sign her. Well, maybe, she cautioned herself. He'd said he wanted to make her a star, but with such an open-ended statement she couldn't be sure. That said, Judy couldn't help but feel hope for the first time in years. If he was serious, then she could finally tell Harey to take his contract and shove it.

As if hearing her thoughts, the living gift to lapin females—in his own mind—appeared. "If it isn't my little songbird."

His voice was coarse after smoking his weight in cigarettes and grated on her nerves as it wafted unpleasantly by her ear. Judy stiffened at the sound of it and tried not to inhale the stale aroma. She felt his paws land on her shoulders and squeeze.

"Just think, Judes, soon I can have you on a permanent rotation here. Bringing in a crowd every night, maybe wrap up each performance with a celebration of our own."

This last part was whispered even closer to her ear; her discomfort was plain in her expression. Judy saw the red fox stiffen and his eyes narrow at the hare in her peripheral.

She shrugged off Harey's paws like she always did after a performance. She took a large swallow of her drink, like she did after every encounter with him. She looked at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, like she did when she prepared herself to face Harey. His sandy brown fur and hazel eyes would have been attractive had he not constantly tried to push his presence on her.

This time, though, Judy took note of the two foxes scowling at him. The smaller of the two had his teeth bared and seemed as though only the basics of social decency kept his temper in check. The other, Nick, met her gaze in the mirror. Green met purple as he raised his eyebrows at her.

She held his gaze, her expression blank. Like her voicemail box. No new gigs. Just this dingy, dirty cabaret and the piano gig at the coffee shop. Both barely got her by. She would continue to be just a starving artist if she signed with Harey.

Or she could take a risk—a walk on the Wilde side, if you will. The thought made her smile at the todd in the mirror.

"Actually, Harey, that was my last show here." The bunny hopped off her stool and turned to Nick. Still smiling, she held out her paw to him. "Judy Hopps. When do I sign, Mr. Wilde?"

With a smug glance to the stunned hare, the tall todd accepted her paw.

"As soon as we go over terms. Tonight, if you can?"

"I just need to gather my things from my dressing room." She gave him a brilliant smile before bouncing to the back. All the while Harey was sputtering.

She vaguely heard the smaller fox laugh and mention something that sounded suspiciously like "I told you! Mother fuckin' finder's fee, FOX!". She was almost to her destination, when Harey caught up with her. The two foxes followed at a more leisurely pace. It wasn't until she entered the small cramped space where she prepared herself to perform that the cabaret owner found his voice.

"Seriously, Judy?" The hare tried to impede her efforts of sorting through what was worth taking with her. "He's a fox! He's trying to get you into his bed with promises of fame and stardom and money. He's going to say whatever he can to get a piece of that cute little tail of yours, and then you're going come crawling back here after you realize this is as good as you can get!"

The two todds stopped at the doorway and exchanged glances as they watched the scene unfold. The hare grabbed her by her hips and forcibly removed her from the makeshift vanity. Nick began to step forward with a low warning growl until the doe shot him a stern glare. She held her amusement in check that she, a total stranger, had stopped him with a look. But Judy had been dealing with males like Harey her whole life and she had been wanting to have it out with him for weeks.

"Do you really think I haven't read over your 'premier contract'?" Judy was flushed with anger at the hare. She pushed him off with a disgusted scoff and stuffed the contract he'd left on her dressing table back into his paws. She was fuming at his calling her cute. And, with his constant invasions of her personal space, she felt more than justified in leaving the cabaret.

"You get seventy percent of my earnings and nightly private meetings to 'discuss' my performance. You pick my attire, my living arrangements, and my social circle? Oh! And I would have to drop any and all future gigs AND stop attending any music and dance classes because it's…" She snatched the contract out of his paws to read one of the more infuriating lines. " _A detriment to the ambiance of Harey's Cabaret in that the establishment wishes to portray it's acts as exclusive to the club_."

Harey's ears flushed red as his fist balled up. He stalked towards her, eyes narrowed in fury. The doe didn't back down. Her sharp ears picked up low growls from both foxes at the doorway. Nick's ears were splayed and his teeth bared, while Finnick was crouched and angled at the buck.

Both started to move forward, furious curses on their lips the moment Harey's paw slapped Judy across the face. Though their attempted intervention was entirely unnecessary, as Judy's knee connected with the buck's groin a split second later. A firm right hook followed, colliding with his muzzle, and the hare was down for the count. The doe then gathered the rest of her things calmly before turning to leave, crumpling the contract and tossing it over her shoulder.

Nick smiled down at her as he let her exit first. Finnick followed her out after one last warning growl at the still dazed owner on the floor. The red fox walked up to stand over Harey, smiling smugly as the hare's eyes tried to focus.

"Mine now, Cottontail."

* * *

The memory of his first little possessive act thrilled her now. At the time, it had been annoying and she'd been very clear that she wasn't anyone's. He had assured her, very thoroughly, that it was only a little professional gloating and he respected her freedom—as well as her right hook—too much to even presume. It had mollified her anger that night and earned him two things: The first was a meeting to discuss his terms in the morning. The second was her number.

The text she'd gotten fifteen minutes after he'd sent her off in a cab was just to confirm that it was her and to give his in turn. That number had stayed in her phone and had been her most commonly used contact for years. It had collected dust for a while, but when Judy realized she'd missed him, she'd brought it out again. She'd called it half a dozen times in the last week, and every time it had gone to voicemail. But she knew it was his and that he would never get rid of it.

Her only assumption was that hers had changed and that he didn't recognize it. He had always been very suspicious of unknown callers in the time she'd known him. New numbers had never gotten a pick-up. If they were serious, they could leave a message. Only she never had. She'd been too scared.

Now, the time for fear was past as she watched him leave the marina office and stalk his way back to his boat. She only had a moment.

Shouldering her guitar case and collecting her bag, Judy moved to rush somewhere, but she had stared too long and ended up hiding instead. She skirted the pathways, making her way along the dock while trying not to be seen. She had no idea why she hid, but the anxiety and fear in her gut gave her a hint. She had waited for so long and anticipated so much that now, when she had him in sight, she was panicking. Deep breaths were needed to stave off hyperventilation as her bag came to rest on the ground by her feet.

He was coming.

She peeked out from behind the pylon, and there he was again. Just as beautiful, his green eyes as alluring as his scent—violets and cloves. Shifting her guitar case from one shoulder to the other, she reached down to pick up her duffle bag again. The voice that came out of her mouth was far braver than she felt.

"Hey, Slick. Where do I stow my bag?"

She gasped when his eyes rolled up and his hind paws slipped from the dock in to the harbor. Carelessly dropping both the case and the duffle bag, Judy darted to the edge as she gave a quick scan of the water. Seconds slowed to a crawl, but finally his head popped back up, narrowly missing the edge of the dock she was leaned over.

"Nick!"

Letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her paws shot out to help pull him out of the water—only to have him drag her in. For a moment, the world was a swirl of bubbles. Righting herself under water, she opened her eyes to find herself nose to nose with him. A slightly mischievous grin was sent her way before both of them darted back to the surface.

Spitting salt water out of her mouth, Judy managed to glare at the todd as he reached out a paw to grasp the edge of the dock.

"Was that really necessary?" she sputtered. A few strong kicks of her legs brought her to him, her own paws tangling in his shirt to keep from going under again.

"For a chance to see you all wet?" He smirked and winked at her. "Absolutely. One hundred percent."

"Har har."

She watched the fox haul himself back onto the dock, trying not admire the way his clothing clung to his body. Once he got himself on the quay, he turned on his knees and pulled her up by the paws from the water. While her light form was only slightly weighed down by her drenched sundress, he still was forced to loop an arm around her to get her fully out of the water. That left her pulled flush to his body before her feet met the ground.

Judy felt the jolt of fire through her core as she kept herself pressed to him. Nick looked down at her with an emotion she had started to see in him after their first six months together—an emotion she'd tried hard to ignore then and shouldn't have. The memory of that first inkling boiled up to the surface, unbidden.

* * *

She laughed as he fumbled again before stopping to watch her hips move in the time with music.

Nick was trying to follow her instruction, but her hind paws were only just able to escape his missteps. The bunny decided on a more paws on approach. Giving a brief turn to face him, Judy took one paw and put it to her hip. The other was held lightly in her own. She restarted the music and hit pause.

Purple met green as she let herself indulge in the pleasure of being near him. His uncertain look made her heart skip a beat. The bite he gave his bottom lip made her forget for a moment why they were doing this.

"I'm not sure about this, Carrots."

"Listen, Slick. You know the steps. I know you do. You're just overthinking this." Her paw left his for a moment to pull his gaze from their feet to her eyes. Her claws traced the fur up his muzzle briefly—his attention was hers, not the floors.

"All I want you to do for now—" she purred and gave him her sweetest smile, letting it coat her voice— "is relax. Trust me. Feel my body move and follow it. And listen to my voice."

She pressed play and let the music wash over her as their paws joined again. She brought him into the first easy steps. It was a club remix of a mambo that was just barely related to her genre of music, and even then only in the loosest of terms, but it was energetic and fun and fit the style of dance they were working on. Attempting to, anyway, Judy reminded herself.

Once they were in position, eyes still locked, Judy began to sing along with the lyrics. They were light and sultry—with a hint of tease and drop of temptation. Perfect for keeping his attention on her and not his two left feet. He never let his eyes fall from her face. His still tense jaw slowly began to relax as his feet moved on muscle memory at first. Before long, whatever power her voice held over him took control. Each step became easier than the last. Step by step she guided him into the pattern, and soon they were swaying to the music like they were made for it.

Nick's eyes brightened as they stayed on her, even as she guided him in twirling and dipping. As she continued to sing, she felt the energy of the music pull the movements from her body. And the handsome todd was there for every step—his warm, musky scent climbing with each press.

As the dance continued, she let her voice grow strong and her movements grow bolder. Judy's ears began to pick up on a low, rumbling growl as her body was briefly pulled against his. Suddenly, he took charge of their dance. The easy steps she had started with were remade into a harmonious tango she hadn't expected from him. His paws knew where he wanted her, and, for a second, she let herself believe it was in more than one way.

She relinquished control as she continued to sing. Judy should have been out of breath, but each touch, each pull—his muzzle so close yet so far—was fire to fuel the passion she felt. Just one dance would never be enough. But her career was so close to exploding in the best way. She couldn't jeopardize it now.

The last few words brought her knee up to cup his hip. One large paw keeping it in place squeezed lightly. The other supported her back as her own resisted the urge to clutch his shoulders. Finally, breathless and slightly dazed, amethyst met emerald.

"Knew you had it in you, Slick."

Far too soon for her liking, her breathing returned to normal and Judy straightened up, pushing him away quickly. It had to be quick. Anything less and she would lose sight of everything she—no, _they_ — had worked for. Without another word, she turned to put some space between them.

She would _not_ give everything up because of a crush.

* * *

This time, it was Judy who was suddenly shoved away.

He was breathing heavily, his paws trembling. Emotion rolled over his features, and he wouldn't look her in the eyes.

"Nick?"

The fox turned without a word. He stopped to swoop down and gather the discarded bags before heading onto the boat, still dripping.

"Nick!" she called after him.

The only response she received was an ear flick.

"Nick, wait!"

He climbed on board, stowed the bag and guitar case next to the cabin door, and was heading to the cockpit to start the motor. "Wait, she says! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." The fox's tail and ears both flicked again as he grumbled. "What are _you_ waiting for?"

"What?"

He hunched over the wheel and drew in deep breaths to steady his rising emotions. "Why do I feel like I've gone back in time to six years ago? All I have ever done is wait, Carrots." Judy made her way to the steps leading onto the boat and grasped the railing. "I waited for your classes to end. I waited through your consultations and coaching sessions. I waited outside Miranda's office while you hammered out the terms of your contract. Now, I'm waiting for you to get on board." He half turned to look at her before turning his attention to leaving port.

His hostility wasn't a surprise. Half of her had expected it. The other part was another story. That half was shocked at his barely contained emotion and how strongly he had responded to her. It hurt. The rumors were true, and now she had proof. She had hurt him. He'd left the city and his old life because of a broken heart.

That didn't stop her from being angry. It was almost enough to make her forget why she was there. Judy's annoyance at herself was frustrating enough. She'd made mistakes. A lot of them. Denying her feelings and telling herself they were a crush was one. Letting him know repeatedly in many small ways that she appreciated his attention but had other goals was another. Judy would never forget that he was the reason she was where she was today. During every interview, every talk show, every record, she acknowledged that he was the reason she had finally made it.

Her guilt was sickening for her part in making this mess, but Judy had tracked him down to fix it. She was not about to take a verbal lashing as well. She would not be pushed around. Not even by the fox to whom she owed damn near everything.

He was not the only one hurting.

He had done an excellent job preparing her for the big leagues, but then he'd vanished. The ink was still wet on the contract when he'd started keeping his distance. Before she could even celebrate her first tour, he'd already fled. Her career ever since had been record-breaking. Everything she had ever wanted: fame, money, adoring fans, an emotionally distant agent who shepherd her from activity to activity without noticing when she was being spread too thin…

* * *

"Ugh! I don't know if I can stand it anymore!"

Judy looked up from her sheet music to the tall, gorgeous Gazelle. The horned diva crossed the hotel suite they were sharing to the cream-colored lounge next to the piano where Judy sat. Her friend reclined and brought her hooves to her face in frustration.

"Did the meeting go that bad?" Judy raised her ears in alarm.

"Why do they speak to us like we are dimwitted children? It isn't as though we haven't been in this business for years." The sarcasm was so thick, Judy couldn't help a sympathetic smile. Gazelle turned a puzzled face to the bunny. "They throw in the most intrusive stipulations, ask us to meet impossible deadlines, demand that we perform in twenty different cities in just as many days, and their final sums are nowhere near what we're worth!"

Judy felt her friend's agitation infect her and sought an outlet to sooth them both. She set aside her sheet music and randomly began to play whatever song popped into her head. Her current agent always discouraged it. She said it could muddle Judy's creative flow and cause the bunny to be unorganized in her performance. Nick had always liked it though. Said it calmed him, helped him focus on their work.

Gazelle closed her eyes and sighed in relief at escaping the producers. "They tried to say we shouldn't be drinking coffee or alcohol."

Judy laughed out loud at that; her fingers moved like raindrops on the keys in front of her.

"They've gone mentally ill," she responded to her friend and colleague. Gazelle, in turn, swayed her head slightly to the music the bunny was playing. Another sigh was heaved before she opened her eyes and looked at source of the music.

"That's so pretty," she murmured, watching her small friend play.

There was a sensation Judy got when she played like this. Just letting her heart and ears guide the way her fingers moved. For several minutes her heartbeat was her tempo and the recesses of her mind flowed from her fingers through the strings.

The music was playful yet reserved, with a slight hint of mischief. Like there was a subject in mind that inspired it. Judy herself kept the notes calmer than she normally did when she played like this. It was like she was afraid. It only intensified as a note of bittersweet longing slipped into the music. Her eyes closed to let the notes wrap around her tired mind. Better than any drug, better than any drink, her breathing evened out and her muscles unwound.

When her eyes opened, Judy saw two sets of eyes watching her. One was the light hazel of her ruminant friend, who looked a bit astonished. The other was green and glittered as it looked at her from the depths of her memory. She hadn't been prepared to see the second set and blanched under her fur. Judy's drooping ears and expression was enough to frighten Gazelle who then badgered her until Judy told her story. It hadn't taken much.

"That was beautiful, Judy, but I've never heard the like. What happened there?" was all it took before Judy was babbling everything. Her years at the cabaret and her start with the Wilde label weren't news to her friend, but the rest of it was another matter entirely. A few weeks, a little encouragement, and some vocally disappointed record executives later and Judy was hopping onto a plane bound for the islands with a half-baked plan in place to make up for lost time.

* * *

She was angry. She knew he was upset and hurt, but she was not going to be the punching bag. She was just as hurt as he was. She was afraid, and it had taken every shred of courage she had to not sprint back to the hotel and arrange tickets home immediately. Now, Judy was going to at least meet him on her terms, and if he didn't like it… Well, she was a decent swimmer and the guitar case was watertight.

"No."

Nick looked up from casting off the last of the lines as she cleared the empty space between quay and boat to land on the deck. "No?"

He quirked his eyebrows at her as she closed the small, boarding door. The engine roared to life although the fox's gaze was still locked on her own.

"No," she repeated, her fists clenching. "You do _not_ get to act like this."

With a scoff, he maneuvered the boat from the marina towards the ocean.

"You do not get to act like you're the only one hurting. I spent our time working together being very clear. I was focused on my career, and I was very open about it. I never led you on." She went to stand next to him, fists on hips, as he determinedly kept his focus on the horizon, trying with all her might to stare a hole through him. "And you don't get to act like you've been helping matters, Mr. Three-Vixens-in-Three-Nights! You were in a huge hurry to leave after I signed."

She hated to be petty, but that one incident had hurt like hell at the time. Judy was surprised at how much it still did, now that her hurt had a voice. The tears burned behind her eyelids—but she was not going to let them fall. Hearing through the grapevine that her former agent had gone out whoring at every party he could find the week after she'd gotten her contract had felt like a gut punch. She'd boxed up the hurt and gotten back on track preparing for her first tour.

That was then. Now, the hurt was fresh again and hot in her blood.

The boat had just hit open water when he cut the engine. Wheeling around to face Judy, she was shocked at the look of unbridled fury in his eyes. The last time she had seen that look was at Harey's Caberet, the night they met.

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WITH THEM!" The snarled statement had the bunny gaping at him.

"What…?" Stunned, she took a slack-jawed step towards him.

Nick turned away from her and yanked on something Judy couldn't see. The sails rose and all the while, Nick stood—his posture stiff as the wind filled the sails. Finally, he moved and began going through the motions of rigging his craft seemingly on autopilot.

As they picked up speed again, Judy stammered, "But you…"

"I couldn't do anything with them" came the low, heated reply. His ears were flat against his head, his eyes looking towards the expanse they were headed towards without seeing it. "I tried. I really wanted to, but it just… Nothing happened…"

"I don't understand," Judy reached out a paw to his arm.

Pinching the bridge of his muzzle, he muttered, "Think about that day again, Carrots."

* * *

"Judy?… Judy… OW! Damn it, _Judy_!" The arctic vixen put a paw up to stop the choreography that she was helping the bunny work on. An ill-timed kick from the rabbit had made contact with her shin. "Where is your head today? Seriously. This should be kit's play, but so far we've made no progress!"

The bunny put her paws on her hips and threw her head back with a groan. Eyes closed, she drew in deep breaths trying to keep her patience in check. "I'm sor—"

A paw was held up to cut her off. "Don't want to hear it. Take a break. I need to ice my leg before we go on," The vixen gathered her water bottle and headed to the door just as Nick came in. His ready smile faded as the other fox gave him an exasperated look before rolling her eyes in annoyance.

The todd's focus snapped onto the bunny again. The smile creeping back onto his muzzle, she turned away and tried to refocus herself on her task. She had a sold out show in one of the biggest concert venues in Zootopia in less than two weeks. This dance had to be perfect before the dress rehearsal.

"What terrible thing have you done now?" asked Nick as he strolled up to her, paws in pockets.

"I accidentally kicked her," she groaned not looking at him. "I'm just nervous."

She could practically see how his head would tilt and his ears would quirk whenever he thought she'd said something crazy. It was too cute when he did that. Not to mention distracting.

Judy closed her eyes again as she stretched her arms over her head. She obviously wasn't meant to hear the sigh he let out, quiet as it was. The fox came closer as she started to work through what she and her choreographer had come up with. Only to stop when his paws landed lightly on her shoulders.

"I was hoping I could take you to lunch. Maybe to the Root Cafe? I know you love their salad selection. We may not get another chance." His muzzle had leaned in to whisper in her ear. She had felt so stupid after the fact. She'd thought he meant they might not get another chance to go there for a week or two—not eat together at all, period. Once she'd understood why, she hadn't had made the connection then either. Such a dumb bunny…

"I can't" was her short reply. Her ears dropped when his grip tightened slightly before dropping away. "We still have to go through this. Then I have a fitting, and I still have to go through costume designs. We need to go through the set list—"

"And all of that can wait while we celebrate." Purple found green as her head whipped to look at him properly. Her mouth agape as he smiled down at the disbelieving expression. "They want to sign. I have the contract, and it's been reviewed by Benji to make sure they made all the changes you wanted. It just needs your signature."

He pulled a roll of paper work from his back pocket, something she knew he did to make her roll her eyes, and shaky paws accepted it.

"Oh, Nick!" Unable to stop herself, Judy launched herself onto him. Wrapping him up in a tight hug, she buried her nose into his shirt and breathed in deeply. They were rarely this close, and she almost never hugged him. A small flip of her stomach had her regretting that fact.

"Did they agree to—" She felt his paws hesitate before wrapping themselves around her, returning the hug with increasing enthusiasm.

"Everything!"

"Well, look at you, Mr. Big Ol' Famous Agent!" She pulled back to smile up at him, withholding the sigh those emerald green eyes of his struggled to pull from her. "Proof that all that time and money spent on extra voice, piano, and dance lessons were worth it! Can you see it!"

Judy broke away from him, ignoring the disappointment she felt in doing so. She spread her paws in the air, imagining the whirlwind of press and paparazzi, bright lights and elbow rubbing with the elite of Zootopia.

"Your name on every entertainment magazine and newspaper. Nick Wilde:Godfather of Rhythm and Blues!" She tentatively took the first steps in her new dance while smiling and continuing her imaginative account of the future for him.

"Your name attached to one of the biggest rising stars in music. You responsible for ushering in a new era of jazz, blues, rock, and pop. Nick Wilde: He doesn't just make a star! He reshapes the heavenly bodies to make them shine their brightest!" She gave a neat spin and ended dramatically, arms akimbo, cheeks almost sore from grinning.

She met the amused face of the todd standing with the contract. He gave her that smile of his. The one that made her feel like she was going to miss the next set of keys on her piano. But somehow managed to pull a sweeter melody from it. It seemed like everything she had done over the last two years was better than the previous ten combined.

"Seems like a lot for the usual ten percent!" Nick said, still smiling at her. Shoving his paws into his pockets he crossed the gap between them. "I may have to demand more, Carrots."

Putting her own paws on her hips, she gave him a sly smirk. "Is that so? And exactly what percentage were you thinking, ?"

Nick scrunched up his face in thought, still slowly moving towards her, one claw tapping his chin. "Let's see, what would be fair?" He suddenly snapped his fingers and smiled again at her. "Independent consultation!" She quirked her eyebrow at him in confusion.

"I come in from time to time, offer my opinion and critique to you, as well as the ten percent." He stopped mere inches from her and folded his arms. Judy raised her eyebrows at him as she thought about his offer.

"Well I was thinking more along the line of twenty percent and royalties. Keep the name Wilde Records attached for exposure for the first two years. It'll boost your sales and may attract some new clientele."

She watched his smile fade; her words seemed to linger in the air. The new agent would definitely draw the line at an outside opinion overruling hers. This really was more than fair, but she, for some reason, felt he was disappointed by the logic of it. If only she had listened to her instincts and just asked why.

"A friendly face comes in handy in this industry, Fluff. You sure you're not interested in keeping one around? Just in case?" His words were quiet. And, if she wanted to delude herself, they seemed hopeful.

"I don't see… Miranda… being ok with that. It might imply that she doesn't know what she's doing or can't handle me as a client." She raised her eyes to look into his.

Those green eyes that had watched her for two years. The ones that deflected her thanks as he set up every dance, voice, and piano lesson he could find for her. The ones that had set her up in a better apartment, explaining it was a 'company expense' because no true musician could work in her previous shoe box.

The company card had been pulled out multiple times a day their first few months together. So much so that Finnick, who had tagged along to scope out 'competition' one evening, had commented on her spending his associates allowance.

"How about you finish your day. And tonight, over dinner, we talk numbers?" Nick's smile was back, though a bit more forced. "And we can do better than The Roots Cafe."

He took a few steps away from her, but his eyes never left her face. He seemed to be stumbling over something. As though there was a great secret he needed to get off his chest and did not know how to do it.

"I'll pick you up at seven" was all he said.

And then he was gone. Judy was left standing in the room, an unpleasant ripple moving through her body. Her heart almost stopped when the choreographer came waltzing back in, refreshed and ready to go.

"Ok! Let's get this down!" Paws clapping to add energy to the tense room, Judy tried to shake off the feeling of dread she felt about that night.

That feeling led her to making another big mistake. She cancelled on him and left the negotiations in the hands of her new agent. Her dream was so close, she could taste it. And it tasted amazing. Like the carrot cake muffins Nick had surprised her with on her birthday. The last thing she needed was to get attached to someone. She needed to be free to follow her career. A week later, she'd heard about his escapades in the city's nightlife and tried to put him out of her mind.

She'd focused on work, and, by the time she had resurfaced, he'd vanished.

* * *

Finding out he hadn't done anything with any of the vixens he'd supposedly taken home was horrifying. Not only had she assumed, but she'd convinced herself that she wanted it to be true. She told herself it would have been a relief for him to find someone else. Three someones else. Anything to make the break clean and complete. It was a lie. This new information made it worse.

He'd been desperate to keep a little piece of her, and she'd denied him. He hadn't demanded or wheedled. He'd offered. That was all. Offered to stay around for her in case she needed a little help, and she'd declined. She hadn't intended to be cruel. She'd done her best to make a clean break and start her career on the best foot she could have.

What seemed like a clean break then, made a huge mess now.

Judy found herself guided to a seat in the cockpit and a bottle of water placed in her paw.

Blinking, she looked up at him.

"Where to, Fluff?"

"What do you mean?" she asked in a small voice, her thoughts still dulled by memories.

"You've chartered me for a cruise. Where do you want to go?"

"A smartass I knew once upon a time told me that the journey was the point. The destination was just a detail."

That earned her a watery smirk and weak chuckle. "Alright."

The fox at the helm fiddled with a few of the ropes and spun the wheel. The rigging swung overhead and the boat tilted under the strain of the new heading.

"Where are we going?"

"Since you have no destination, I figured you'd appreciate a new experience."

"Really?"

Nick nodded as his eyes stayed on the horizon. "A friend of mine has a bakery in Antigua."

"Is it worth the trip?"

"One way to find out."


	3. Chapter 3

Nick guided his boat into the shipping lane and slid away from the supposed safety of land. The buoys placed to control traffic on the water passed with frustrating ease. He'd done this little routine leaving the harbor dozens of times, both with the motor and, more rarely, under sail power. It was a matter of not doing anything stupid and letting his paws go through the motions. Both were easily done. He did not want it to be easy.

Easy meant he didn't have to think.

Usually, that was a good thing. Coasting out of port on a fair wind, like today, was usually a pleasure. Even if he was saddled with a cargo of noisy travelers, Nick could space out and just let his paws do the work with minimal attention. Eventually, even the most eager passenger would get the hint, shut up, and settle in to enjoy the journey. That was part of the mystique, he supposed. He didn't encourage conversation, and it usually worked to his advantage.

Usually. It was the "usually" part that kept biting him in the tail. "Usually" didn't apply today.

With busy paws and an unfettered mind, all Nick's attention was free to latch onto the one passenger he never thought he'd have. A combination of nostalgia and regret occupied his mind, leaving him feeling ill. He was thrilled and terrified at how things had gone, apart from his initial assumption that she was a mirage. It was straight back to their old patterns—but worse.

Falling into the water aside, the whole situation had been just their style. A little cheekiness and a little surprise. They both had looked ridiculous and gotten a small laugh out of it. He'd only done what was necessary to pull her from the water, but the moment his arm wrapped around her it had felt like a waking dream. Every time they had danced or been close to each other had slid over his mind, and it was like he was back before things had gone wrong. Back to when he'd still loved her quietly and had kept it to a dull roar.

"Where are we headed?"

Her question snapped him out of his reverie. He realized he'd been nearly silent for a while. "I told you. Antigua."

"We can make it there in a day?" Judy asked as she settled onto a seat in the cockpit beside the wheel.

Nick struggled not to be distracted by her presence just in the fringe of his sight. "If we sail through the night, we can make it there before dawn."

"You're not serious."

Nick chuckled, giving him away.

"Jerk."

"We'll anchor in a cove for the night. We should make port in Antigua tomorrow around noon, if the wind holds."

Judy's smile was only a little forced as she started swinging her legs. "What's the rush? Can I drive?"

The question caught Nick completely off guard. "Can you what?"

"Drive. Can I drive?"

"According to my recollection, no. No, you can't," Nick replied wryly.

Judy crossed her arms and sassed, "I do have a license."

"You did six years ago, too."

"Oh, come on!" the rabbit scoffed. "It was one stop sign!"

"I'd accept that if you ran the sign. You don't get to say it like that when you hit the damn thing."

"Oh, gods… That was once!" She blustered around a smile.

"Once with my car and on my insurance. Therefore, no. I won't let you at the wheel." Nick chortled. "And you don't _drive_ a boat."

That stopped her train of thought for a moment. "What do you do with a boat, then?"

"Steer, or pilot."

"No wonder you're so good at it," Judy retorted with playful sarcasm.

The minute tremor in her voice had Nick looking at her quizzically, as he replied. "I'm good at it because I've been at it for almost four years."

Her eyes didn't waiver form his. "I meant that you're good at steering your boat because it's what you were always good at with conversations."

Nick's mood soured slightly at the verbal jab. "A talent we share, my dear."

Turgid moments passed in an oppressive silence. It didn't take long before he caved in. "If I let you steer will you stop pouting?"

"I'm not pouting." Judy huffed.

"Your droopy ears and crossed arms say otherwise." Nick smirked, and she fought to stay frowning as their eyes met. "You're right. Some things don't change."

"Oh, shut up and give me the wheel."

In response, he released the wheel with one paw and stood aside, gesturing for her to take his place.

Judy leapt up from her seat and scampered over. Her smile was infectious and very quickly mirrored on the fox's face. His fledgling smile shrank as he took up his place again, right behind her. Nick felt his ears droop as his posture stiffened. The facade of easy competence he'd kept up thus far blew away in the sea breeze. She was right there in front of him—close enough to feel her body heat. The breath he'd been holding since she stood up rattled out of him, despite his attempt to silence it. As his paws found their places cradling hers, the memories welled up. He felt like he would drown in them. If only he were so lucky.

It was another rainy day in the Bayou District, and he was seeking a little quiet time to himself, away from the stresses of his job. Transitioning his responsibilities for other talents to other agents was not an arduous task, but it required meetings. Lots and lots of meetings, which demanded hours and hours of preparations and groundwork. It was enough to murder his sense of satisfaction from acquiring Judy Hopps for his label. That was why he was in his favorite near-dockside dive, shooting pool and enjoying a beer or two.

The place had no official name. There wasn't even a sign outside the building to indicate what it was. It was known as 'The Hole in the Wall', or just 'The Hole', and was infamous for being the cheapest beer and billiards in the district. It also had a reputation for being a slightly illegal and unofficial bar leftover from the prohibition days, but that wasn't discussed generally. At least not after the bouncer stopped by to explain why it wasn't a topic for elaboration with his ballpeen hammer.

Nick adored the place. It was dark and grimy and no one ever asked questions. There, he could unwind and not worry about anyone bothering him. That was why he went there. It was also why he was so surprised to see a certain new lapin artist for his label slip through the dilapidated door and scan the crowd until she found him.

She was dressed in clothes appropriate to the warm, wet climate of the dock area, which was far too light and revealing to be safe in The Hole. At least, not without someone to keep an eye on her. Nick resigned himself to playing chaperone until he could get her out of there as he finished swallowing his mouthful of beer. With any luck she'd want something quick and be out the door in a couple minutes. Then, she could take a cab and he could upgrade to whatever passed for hard liquor had fallen off the back of a truck this week.

Every eye in the place tracked her progress from the door to where he stood. He hated every second of it. As she made her way over, Nick leaned his cue against the wall. It was a safer option than using it inappropriately on a leering patron.

"Nick! There you are."

"Here I am, Carrots." Nick replied. His pint glass thunked onto the high-top table by the pool table. "More interestingly, here you are. Why is that?"

Her eyebrow rose fractionally with a corner of her mouth. "Is it a problem?"

"More noteworthy than anything else." The vulpine commented as he leaned on the high top. "You're probably the prettiest thing to walk through that door since the drag queen burlesque show last year."

Her ears pinked at the compliment. "You think so?"

Nick took a long, slow pull from his beer as he watched her tension grow. "Me and every other mammal in this place."

"Huh?" Judy blinked in confusion.

"You have got to work on your self-awareness, sweetheart." He chuckled mostly into his glass. "A pretty little thing like you stands out as it is. In this dive, you _really_ stand out."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that you're here, then!"

"And we've come full circle. Why are you here, Carrots?"

"Um… No reason…" She replied, suddenly bashful, as she fiddled with the string of her purse.

"So, you dolled yourself up and tracked me down at my favorite—secret, I might add—hideaway just for kicks?" Nick signalled the bartender for a refill, lettinghis query hang in the air.

"It's not a secret when your secretary knows," she sassed.

"Remind me to discuss that with her when I get back to the office tomorrow."

"You leave Eileen alone! She's overworked as it is. Besides, Finnick told me first. I just didn't believe him until she confirmed it."

"Why didn't you believe him?" He inquired, genuinely curious.

"Gee, I don't know…" Judy gave him a flat look. She tossed her purse to hang with his jacket on the back of a chair and planted a fist on her hip. "A major record label executive and recruiter spending their downtime in an off the grid place called 'The Hole'? What's not to believe about that?"

"Sarcasm noted. Disbelief explained. Now, why are you here?"

"Because I haven't seen you since I signed on, and I wanted to say thank you."

"Rabbit, I'm in the process of clearing my workload to focus on you exclusively," Nick laughed as he drummed his fingers on his drink. "You're about to get more of me than you can handle on a daily basis." He drained his glass.

Judy giggled and bit her lip at the innuendo, waiting for him to realize when he'd said. When he did, he muttered, "You know what I mean."

"That's still going to take a while, isn't it?" She was coy as she perused the rack of pool cues.

"About a week. Maybe more."

She shrugged and smiled innocently up at him. "Then, give me a little attention tonight to tide me over."

If Nick had been drinking, he would have sprayed the table at her coquettish suggestion. As it was, his eyes bugged, and he nearly dropped his empty glass. Judy's musical laughter told him all too clearly that she'd gotten him with that one and she knew it.

"Impossible female."

She laughed again. "Come on, Slick. Teach a girl to shoot pool."

"I'll lay two to one odds you're a pool shark, already."

"One way to find out…" Her hooded gaze and cocked hip was all the answer he needed. He was about to be hustled and—for once in his life—he didn't mind.

That evening had grown into one of the most enjoyable nights he'd ever had. As it turned out, Judy really had known nothing about playing pool. She was, however, an expert at teasing him. He'd had to teach her everything from how to hold the cue to lining up basic shots, but she'd never really got it. Not that she'd tried overmuch. She had been far too interested in teasing him to learn the game, and Nick hadn't minded in the least. He wasn't a very good player himself.

Every time she tried to line up a shot, his paws had to cup and guide hers or she'd miss completely. Each and every time he stood behind her, Judy had a comment ready for him. No matter what she did or how, it turned cheeky or suggestive, and everything he tried to do ended up ridiculous or smug. The verbal sparring was light and easy, while the physical contact was friendly, edging towards the possibility of something more.

All in all, it was in good fun and lots of flirting at its most basic: attention without intention. Then, Nick had known he was in a little trouble because it had taken a surprising amount of willpower to keep his paws from seeing how soft her fur really was. Flirting or not and beer or not, Judy shouldn't have attracted him as much as she had, or been so hard to resist.

That was then—a beautiful, if bittersweet, memory. This was different.

Now, the tension had teeth, and the longing was thick enough to cut with a machete. Standing together at the wheel, all the silliness and cheek was gone. The attention was rapt, and the intention was restrained only by the barest margins—and Nick damn well knew it. He'd been pining like a fool for years, and now she was literally right in front of him, but the fear was enough to keep him in check.

All Nick had to do was lean forward, and he'd feel her pressed against him, again— just like she had been on the quay and that night playing billiards. A tiny distance he couldn't close. Instead, Nick stood rigid and panicking as the heat from her body danced over his skin and fur. His pain kept him from stepping closer, but the desire that had sustained him for the last four years pinned him in place, refusing to allow him to escape.

It was a sweet agony.

Then, the scent hit. It was faint. Barely a whisper on the tropical wind, but it was there. Musk and flowers with a hint of spiced earth and pheromones. All very distinctly feminine, and all very clearly not vulpine. The scent was fear and desire and terror—everything he was feeling mirrored in lapin form. It was almost enough to make him cave.

At great length, Nick managed to will himself into stepping away, mumbling, "I think you've got it, Carrots."

Once the spell was broken, he found it easier to push away. Distancing himself from the bunny and her white knuckles on the wheel, he headed off to fiddle with the rigging on the deck. When he was far enough forward to be out of sight, he called back, "We'll stay on this heading for a while. Think you can handle it?"

"One way to find out!"

Nick laughed and tried to quell the warring emotions that threatened to pull him under. Instead of bursting into tears or throwing himself overboard, he set about keeping his paws busy.

There was almost always something that needed doing on a boat. Most of the time, he had to leave it to the evening after dropping anchor, but now he could get a jump on his usual tasks and maintenance. He'd stay busy and she'd stay distracted. Perfect for not thinking too much or being interrupted again. His plan worked a treat until it actually was time to drop anchor.

Usually, on the infrequent occasion where he had overnight passengers, he'd cook a meal for whatever punters he was ferrying around and leave them to enjoy their romantic evening while he puttered around the boat. Once he was done his chores, he'd usually settle in on his chair for his usual evening watching the sunset. They'd usually be in their cabin long before he wrapped up for the night and that was that. This time, however, he had somewhat hamstrung his usual plan. Nick was slowly grasping that there was nothing "usually" about this. "Usually" was down for the count.

The chores were done before the anchor dropped, for one thing. Once dinner was cooked and he'd set himself up on the bow, he realized that his passenger wasn't about to enjoy a romantic evening with their spouse, or whatever. He wasn't transporting a pair. He only had her. His realization came moments before he heard her paws on the deck, coming forward.

"Is this seat taken?"

"Seat?" Her crestfallen expression had him hopping up and muttering "Hang on" as he passed her.

Moments later, he returned with another deck chair. Her bowl joined his on the cooler sitting between them and the minutes ticked by. The only sounds were water lapping at the hull and the quiet munching of mixed veggies and bread as they ate.

Soon the food was gone, and he removed the bowls. Opening the cooler, Nick took out two bottles and cracked them with the built-in bottle opener on the side. The silence stretched and was settling into a semblance of normalcy, despite the extenuating circumstances, when a phone rang. He watched as she scrambled back to her back in the cockpit and silence it. A couple minutes later, she returned with a sheepish expression on her face.

"Sorry about that," Judy mumbled as she slipped back onto her seat.

"Your panther checking in?"

"My assistant, yes. I told him I was fine and not to contact me again until I reached out."

Nick smiled. "I have a similar policy, but more permanent."

"You don't take calls when you're on the water?"

"I don't take calls at sunset."

He could feel the confused stare and refused to rise to the bait. He just sipped his beer and stared at the horizon. He didn't have long to wait.

"What do you mean? Why sunset?"

He stayed still as stone except for the corners of his mouth. "Other than how beautiful it is?"

"I can see that much, but that's a pretty draconian rule for such a specific time."

"Breaking out the expensive vocabulary, I see."

"And not breaking my line of questioning." His interrogator dropped any semblance of calm as she turned on her chair to face him fully.

Nick side-eyed her while he sipped his beer and huffed out a sigh. She was looking at him expectantly and didn't look like she was about to let it go. The last time he'd seen that expression on her face was when he'd been sick. Judy had refused to leave his doorstep until he'd explained about the inherently weak vulpine immune system and had agreed to let her in when she returned with medical supplies. Now, it looked like he wasn't about to get away from this conversation either.

Rather than wait for the hammer to fall, Nick took the initiative. "I'll tell you what. We both have questions we want answered. Ones we're a little afraid of. I'll answer yours if you answer mine, and I'm putting a limit on it for tonight. One each. So make it a good one. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"You still want to know why sunset is important to me?"

Judy nodded, her nervousness causing her nose to twitch.

Nick took a long sip before he answered. "Just after the sun vanishes under the horizon the sky turns the same color as your eyes. For a moment it takes me back to that first night at that dirty little cabaret when I fell in love with the girl at the piano."

Judy's voice was a feeble whisper. "What?"

"I'm not repeating myself, Judy."

She picked at the label on her bottle. "So it wasn't a passing interest." Her words were calm, but hollow sounding.

"That was an inquiring statement not a question, so I'll answer it, but that's all you're getting from me tonight." Nick took another long pull from his beer and dropped the now empty bottle into the bag hanging off his chair. Another was open and half drained before he continued. "I was in love with you from the moment I saw you. Completely fairy-tale in love, right down to the lightning bolt from the blue."

Judy took a long pull from her bottle, swallowing thickly. "That's why you left."

"And why three vixens in three nights got cabs home instead of a walk on the Wilde side."

"You have to joke about everything, don't you?"

Nick smirked and sipped his beer. "It keeps the pain to a manageable level."

Her eyes stayed firmly on her lap. "I think you answered more than the question I asked."

The only response Judy got was the sound of another bottle opening in the fox's paws.

"I believe I owe you an answer now." She gripped her bottle and steeled herself for his reply.

"What are you doing here, Carrots?"

It was such a simple question. One asked so easily that the rabbit should have been able to answer in a blink, but her voice stalled. He'd have said it'd caught in her throat, but it seemed more accurate to say the answer was too afraid to come out. For good reason, he supposed. He'd given her proof that he'd loved her. Plain as day, and without a second of hesitation on his part. Obviously, she'd thought otherwise, and now all the years of doubt and concern, fear and assumption had blown up in her face. He'd been totally serious. In truth, he'd been understated. She had to see that now.

She also had to see how she'd been cruel.

He'd gone to great lengths to show his interest without being overbearing. Her history with Harey was something Nick took seriously, and he'd respected her hesitance. However, as much as she'd flirted back, he always saw that her music had seemed more important. The Judy of then wasn't about to lose her chance because of a male. If they'd both talked like adults, they wouldn't be in this position, but that was moot. He'd done what he had thought was best and, Nick believed, so had she. This was the result. He was hurting and—if the look on her face was any indicator—she felt awful.

Judy put her beer bottle on the deck and raked her fingers over her ears. "You were never clear about what you wanted."

The fox remained placid, mournfully staring at the horizon. "I was as clear as I could be given our relationship. Ethics matter, Carrots. You know that."

"You could still have told me!" Judy whined, her exasperation bleeding to the surface.

"Probably. It was my choice not to." The beer was a meagre balm against the heat rising in his gut.

"Why?" The word sounded like it choked her.

"I've answered your questions. Answer mine."

"No!" Judy barked desperately. "Tell me why you chose to keep it to yourself!"

"You really are a dumb bunny." Nick drained his beer with a deepening frown and finally turned to face her across the space between the seats. "Did you really think I didn't know where your focus was? I wasn't worth it. Your choice was me or a career at the top of the music charts for the next twenty years. Why waste the breath asking a question I knew the answer to? I enjoyed my time helping you, and I wanted to stay. But it was clear you wanted a clean break. I gave it to you. I thought I'd recover, and I didn't. Now, I'm here."

"You make it sound so simple." She looked away from him, shaking her head in frustration.

"It was simple." Nick's elbows came to rest on his knees with his face in his paws. "That didn't make it easy."

"It was still your choice," Judy spat back around the lump in her throat.

"It was, and I don't regret it."

"You don't?"

He forced the rising tension out of his shoulders and breathed, letting his paws flop down to cross in his lap. "You've gotten answers to every question you've asked. Now, answer mine. What are you doing here?"

He watched her ears fall as her gaze dropped. After a deep breath, her eyes met his again, teeth worrying her bottom lip as her lungs pulled in deep breaths. It was then Nick noticed how strong his own scent had become, and her reaction to it made every cell in his being scream to take her. She was so close. He wouldn't have to reach a foot away to caress her face. Her paw was a meagre few inches from his. Everything he'd ever wanted was so close, yet may as well have been on the other side of the world.

"I'm here… because I got what I wanted," she whispered, eyes never leaving his. "I've seen the world. I've stood on more stages than I thought could possibly exist—met WAY more mammals than I could've ever hoped to meet."

The todd felt a sting of disappointment and confusion at her answer. He opened his mouth to reply, only to fall silent as she continued, now uncertainly staring at her feet.

"So many shows… so many performances, awards, music video sets," Judy gave a slight chuckle, though it sounded empty. "And after every single one, I looked out at my audience, searching for something." She turned her eyes back to him and smiled sadly. "It took me until a few weeks ago to realize I was looking for you."

One small paw reached over to grasp his.

"You and I stayed in, what, a thousand hotels?" she huffed nostalgically, and they shared a laugh. "And all of them, even that creepy one in the Meadowlands where we thought we would end up as lampshades, felt like home. I didn't know it then, but it was because you were there."

"Nick—" she breathed and leaned closer—"I'm here because I've felt homeless for four years and didn't know why. When you were with me, everything make sense. Going through the costume fittings, the non-stop touring, the performing on sprained ankles, bleeding vocal cords, and emotional exhaustion. Even the impromptu jam session at that hideous dive on Outback Island to 'connect to the grassroots music scene…" They both shuddered at the memory.

"Thanks for reminding me," He chuckled weakly.

She slapped his shoulder. "It felt right because I had you with me. It took four years before I realized that was something I couldn't live without."

Nick forced down his rising hope. "So, why are you here?"

Judy's voice was watery as she whispered. "For a second chance. If you'll give me one."

* * *

A/N:

My usual thanks to Cimar and Damlone for Beta reading, OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing, kt_valmiri for sound-boarding and Blueberryandhoney for working on this with me. The next chapter is in the works, so stay tuned! I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Reviews and feedback are always welcome. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

The leading cause of death for bunnies is heart attacks. Overstimulation is a very effective way to cause one. Anxiety, fear, and surprise are all high-risk experiences which can increase the risk of such a cardiac event. A frightened rabbit is considered a de facto health risk by most medical professionals and many rides at amusement parks are lapin-banned features. Excessive stress, or over-caffeination is enough to potentially trigger a fatal event, making the life of a rising musical star risky business, as did her current predicament.

His eyes stared unblinkingly into hers, muzzle slightly ajar. His breath as ragged and heavy as her own. The way he looked at her, his emotions unreadable, made her anxiety skyrocket. A sudden terror crashed over her.

 _He's over me_.

The insidious thought took root the instant it passed through her mind and grew until it was the only possible reason for his lingering silence. With a nervous laugh, she released his paw and stood, the chair she sat on tipped and fell to the ground in her haste. That broke Nick from his stupor. His mouth opened and closed in shock as she smoothed out her now wrinkled sundress. Judy paused to look at him.

"You're not interested!" she tittered, fumbling to straighten the chair as the todd watched in stupefaction. "I should have figured… silly me… I—uh—I should have known better!"

She was half-turned away when Nick's ragged voice stopped her. "How in hells did you come to that conclusion?"

"Wha—"

"I mean it, rabbit. I know the whole dumb bunny stereotype, but seriously."

Forcing herself to stand firm in the face of his impassive stare, she exclaimed, "I get that you aren't interested, but there's no need to be insulting."

"How am I being insulting? You just went straight off the deep end!" Judy goggled in the face of his now explosive upsetment as he ranted. "I've spent years wandering the tropics so I could watch the sunset, _just_ because it reminds me of you and you—gods only know how—presume I've lost interest?"

"I don't know what else to think!" Judy all but exploded. "You were staring and didn't say anything."

"I'm sorry, Carrots. It's just that I'm flabbergasted that you tracked me all the way here to ask for a second chance of all things and now you're talking nonsense. I'm half expecting Gazelle to show up in a second, walking across the water to ask for a threesome."

"Excuse me?"

"Please, tell me you get it. This whole thing is so fantastical I'm pretty sure either Joe slipped something into my supplies, or I'm suffering heatstroke."

Judy's heart was hammering in her ears. "What does that mean? I'm not letting you say this is all a dream, or whatever excuse you're trying to pull on me. Just give me an answer. I did not come all this way when I've been so afraid just to let you feed me a load of bull!"

"I'm not feeding you bull. You're making assumptions."

"Then, just give me an answer!" Judy shouted.

"Fine!" Nick's awkward pause stretched and stretched until finally he was forced to ask, "What was the question?"

She couldn't help herself. The absurdity of it was too much. It started as a huff, which quickly became a giggle. In a matter of seconds Judy was laughing hard enough that tears were rolling down her cheeks. It relieved her to see he was in no better shape.

Then, his paw found her cheek. Weakly—mostly from laughter-induced exhaustion—Judy rested her paw on it, unsure if it was to hold it in place or slap it away from her.

His voice was breathless and rough. "This isn't a yes, Carrots."

She cringed, slowly pulling back until their gazes met—both watery as they regarded each other and the limbo they found themselves in. "But it's not a no, either."

Judy felt sick and exhausted as she muttered, "Can't you be clear for once? I can't take any more uncertainty."

"I've spent the last four years mourning what I never had, what I thought was never possible," he brushed a thumb across her cheek. Warm comfort spread from where his thumb passed, straight through her core. "And in the span of twelve hours, the girl from my dreams shows up out of the blue and tells me she's been in love with me for as long as I've been in love with her. Can you blame me for being a teensy bit thrown?"

"I guess not," Judy grumbled from her position, fighting the urge to latch onto his shirt. They both laughed. "So, this is our punishment for not talking this out years ago like adults?"

Nick shook his head and chuckled. "It's not a punishment. It is a lot to process, though, and part of me doesn't think this is real. I've dreamed about this day for… so damn long…" He stepped forward, seemingly involuntarily, and stopped himself just close enough to where she could feel his warmth. It was maddening to her.

Stepping back from his touch was the hardest thing she could remember doing. "So I guess my hopes of fixing my biggest mistake and making it back to the studio next week with you in tow are a little overly optimistic, huh?" Her paws managed to find each other and she fiddled with her fingers to keep them occupied.

The reynard smiled ruefully at her. "If this were a fairy tale they wouldn't be, but life's a little more complicated than that."

"I know…"

Taking her paws in his own Nick stepped towards the stern of the boat and the door leading to the cabins, where she had stowed her bag earlier. "We can talk about this tomorrow. I need at least that long to wrap a little off my head around this and even then we'll have a lot to talk about. We'll be in Antigua by noon. For now—"

"Go get your beauty sleep, Slick." Judy felt a sense of loss that faded away as he released her paws. The warmth they held already missed by the bunny, his eyes matched hers in longing as he backed away.

"See you in the morning, Fluff," he murmured.

Judy watched him go, watched his tail disappear from sight, before her eyes fell on the guitar case that never made it to her cabin. With another shaky breath she crossed over to it and kneeled. She needed music. With so much emotion roiling inside her, she needed an outlet or she'd burst.

She unzipped the case and almost reverently removed the old instrument within. Dark wood, with a well-worn neck, the parlour had been her Pop-pop's, passed down to her before she left for Zootopia. She found the same spot by the wheel she had occupied earlier in the day. It felt right somehow. Facing the calm waters of the ocean, her heart knew what needed to be played. Her tears fell as the notes dripped from the strings. Judy didn't know if they were from relief, or grief, or misery, but it all had to come out.

It started as a trickle, which became a flow, then a flood.

Memories sifted up from where she'd hidden them, hoping to forget. She felt more and more like a twit with every passing moment. She had no way of knowing what he had felt for her. He'd never treated her any different than he had right from the start. The fact that it was love at first sight explained so much. It cast the entire time they worked together in a completely different light, right from that first, horrible day a week after she left Harey's Cabaret.

She felt terrible for the poor dhole who had been Nick's secretary at the time.

"Miss Hopps, you need to calm down."

"That's real easy for your to say. Now, where is Nick Wilde?"

"Mister Wilde is in a meeting with another client. He'll be finished with them shortly. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you have a shotgun I can borrow," Judy muttered darkly.

"Excuse me?" The receptionist's concern was evident in her wide eyes the subtle tension in her frame.

"No, Miss… I'm sorry. What was your name, again?"

"Dholeson. Henrietta Dholeson."

"Well, Miss Dholeson, I was told by your employer that he'd assist me with my transition and any issues that I had would be his to deal with."

"That sounds like him."

"Well, I just lost my apartment thanks to the dirtbag I used to work for. He called my superintendent and told him I got fired, so I wouldn't be able to make rent. I left to grab coffee this morning and returned to find my possessions on the street and the locks changed."

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

"Like I have the money to fight it," Judy muttered bitterly. "Look, Nick said if I have problems to talk to him. His phone is off and I can't stay on the streets tonight."

"Do you have a friend you could stay with?"

"Everyone I know in the city either works for my former employer, or basically lives in their car and I am NOT going home to Bunnyburrow. The moment I set foot in town my parents will be all over me to stay. The last time I visited home, they hid my guitar! And I am not about to go through that kind of nonsense again!"

"Nor should you." The velvet tenor of the fox's voice cut the tension from the room like it was never there. Both Judy and Henrietta breathed sighs of relief.

"Sir," Henrietta chimed, "I believe you have a guest."

"An irate one, at that. Housing problem Carrots?"

"Just a lot," Judy snarked, surprisingly relieved at the fox's appearance.

"Hen, would you have some refreshments sent to my office?"

"The angry client special, herbivore edition. Got it."

"No, the one we discussed yesterday."

Henrietta smiled coyly. "Ten minutes, sir."

"You know I hate being called "sir", right?"

"We discuss it at least twice a week, sir."

"Good. Just so we're on the same page. Come on, Carrots."

Judy blinked in the aftermath of her angry tirade. She stood staring for a moment before she realized the fox was already a decent way down the hall. Scampering after him, she cast a glance back at the secretary she had just blown up at. She was on the phone, shaking her head and smiling tiredly. Apparently, this was just another day at the office. Judy felt a little guilty about her behavior at that realization, but had little time to think on it.

A few quick turns later, Judy found herself in a corner office. It was immaculately clean with all the usual trimmings. Modern furniture with clean lines and polished surfaces littered the room, but there was nothing that didn't serve a purpose. A small conference table with four chairs sat opposite a desk and another pair of overstuffed armchairs. A small sideboard sat in the corner and by the window were a set of amps and adapters along with a small case of tools for adjusting or tuning a variety of musical instruments. It was a utilitarian space until her eyes fell on the small couch beside the desk. There was a rumpled pillow and a threadbare blanket sitting on it with all the telltale signs of habitual use.

"Sleep here often, Slick?" Judy inquired dubiously.

"Not when I can help it. I've been busy lately."

"Here I am coming to you about losing my apartment and you're living here. That doesn't fill me with confidence."

"You could always join me," Nick replied evenly. "It's very convenient to sleep and work in the same place."

"I'll pass, thanks. Too high stress for me."

"You don't play in your apartment?"

"Former apartment and no. I always went to the roof or a park. There was less interference there."

"Noisy neighbors?"

"Understatement and not my problem anymore. I don't live there as of this morning. Now, what are we going to do about it?"

" _We_ aren't doing anything. You are going to sit down and take a few deep breaths while Hen works her magic. I will start working on your little problem as soon as your mouth is full."

"My what?!"

Before Nick could respond, the door opened and Henrietta walked in, guiding a young bull in a chef's coat into the room. "Hen! Your timing couldn't have been better."

"I could have waited until she gave you a black eye."

"And yet, you didn't. I'm such a lucky fox." Nick batted his eyes with a saccharine grin.

"You wish, boss."

"I hate to interrupt," Judy slipped in between salvos, "But what in hell is going on?"

Nick smiled. "Hen and I are goofing around. Leon, there, is desperately eager to unveil his masterpiece of a meal before fleeing the room to get away from us—"

"Not you, Mister Wilde," the bovine muttered weakly.

Henrietta grinned wolfishly while Nick strangled a laugh. Judy watched in morbid fascination as her day got weirder.

"And you, Carrots, are asking too many questions." The fox then turned to the bull and waved him on. "You're on, Leon. Amaze the rabbit."

"Then, you can walk down the hall in front of me." Henrietta purred. "I like a good show."

This time Judy joined the others in trying to restrain their mirth. In response, Leon swept the covers off several platters. A spring salad, roasted eggplant with braised parsnips and cauliflower, and a very large fruit sorbet appeared in front of the now previously upset lapin. While Judy was agog at the spread before her, he surreptitiously set a place for her, complete with a little flower in a vase and tried to slip out of the room. Judy would have remained completely unaware of his absence if he hadn't stopped on the other side to hold the door shut.

"Give it up, Leon! You have to let it go eventually."

"This buys me a few moments of peace!"

"But costs you your head start."

"I'll wedge it shut!"

"Fire code violation. Chef will kill you, and then fire you."

All Judy heard was "Damnit!", before Henrietta yanked it open and was off down the hall like a shot.

"Is this normal?"

"It's all in good fun," Nick chortled. "Also, yes."

"So, she has a thing for bovines?"

Nick shrugged. "Not my business. All I know is he's inexperienced with females and she likes to make him blush. Anything past that is between Henrietta, Leon, and Henrietta's girlfriend."

Judy choked on her salad. She wanted to ask, she really did, but it would have been rude to pry and it was none of her business. Besides, the mammal who had gotten her to nearly spit-take had a phone against his ear and was focusing on his computer screen. Instead, she set about her meal and quickly became lost in it. Each dish was exquisite and tantalizingly delicious. The more Judy ate, the more she found herself picking out different flavors—little bits that reminded her of something.

Then, it hit her.

They were all tastes of home. Cauliflower and parsnips were staple crops for this time of year, as were eggplants. Fall was the only time where they all overlapped. They were all earthy, hearty vegetables which suited the crisper weather of the season. The truffle oil she tasted in the dressing would have brought her to her knees if she'd been standing. It was possibly the most decadent meal she'd ever had and easily the best she'd eaten in months.

It was like she was at home, again.

As soon as Nick was off the phone, Judy piped up, or tried to. The fox expertly stopped her with a raised paw.

"I found you a place to stay for a while. It's not the Palm, but it'll do for a week or two until we get you settled in a new place."

A manic hour later, they were standing in what was to become her home for nearly three years. She was in awe of the vaulted ceilings, floor to ceiling windows and the near-perfect acoustics of the space. She still had fond memories of that apartment and missed it, not just for the fact of its attributes, but its memories. The first of which was made that very first day.

As they stood, Judy grinning at her intense good fortune and her new agent smiling at his accomplishment, her phone rang.

"Oh, buttered biscuits…"

"What's wrong, Carrots? And, biscuits? Really?"

Judy glared at him, before openly fretting. "It's my parents

Indeed, it was her parents and just to make things less comfortable, they wanted a video chat. Her digit was hovering over the accept button as she worked up the courage to answer, when the phone vanished from her paw. In disbelieving horror, Judy watched the fox hit the button with no hesitation whatsoever.

"Hello!"

To Judy's horror her father was the first to respond. "Who the hell are you?!" Judy knew she was doomed.

"Mister Hopps, I presume?"

"You presume correct, fox. What are you doing with my daughter's phone?"

"Fulfilling my first responsibility as her agent." Nick's voice was calm and even in the face of her father's barking—pure professionalism.

Her father did not sound convinced. "Her agent, huh?"

"That's correct, Mister Hopps. I'm a talent scout and agent for Wilde Records. I signed your daughter to our label last week."

"You signed… Listen to me, fox. You're going to put my daughter on right this minute, or I'll—" Judy's paws itched to snatch the phone with every passing syllable.

"Yes, of course. I just needed to confirm a few details with you."

There was a small scuffle on the other end of the call from Hell. Judy knew it was her mother intervening. No matter how upset she was, Bonnie was the more even keeled of the pair. She'd calm things down. At length, her mother's cautious voice drifted through to her.

"Mister Wilde, was it?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Pleased to meet you. Could we please speak to our daughter?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Hopps. As I said to your husband, I just need to confirm a detail or two. You are the Hopps' of Hopps Family Farm, Bunnyburrow, correct?"

"Yes…"

"And you are Stuart and Bonnie."

For a moment Judy's father pushed into the frame, growling, "It's Bernadette to you, fox!"

"Stuart Kevin Hopps, shush," Bonnie admonished

"But—"

Iron crept into the maternal doe's voice. "Now."

"And your family solicitor is Leopold M. Digger, Esq.?"

"Yes, Mister Wilde. Now, what is this about?"

"I needed to make sure I was sending the paperwork to the correct mammals. Here's Judy."

Nick's paw extended her way and Judy was feeling a thread of relief when she was scared out of her fur.

Bonnie's voice cut through the air like a whip crack. "Wait! What paperwork? Why?"

"What are you trying to pull, fox?" Stuart's snarl followed immediately on her heels. It was enough to stop Judy's paw cold, mid-air. She watched in terror as the phone went back to her agent's impassive face and the call from Hell continued.

"I'm having copies of all the paperwork and contract materials sent to you and your solicitor for review."

All three rabbits exclaimed, "What?!" at the same moment.

"Sheesh…" Nick dug into his ear with a pinky before commenting, "I've had my PA make copies of all the contracts for you and your legal advisor. I understand that you are concerned for her wellbeing and don't want her taken advantage of, so I've taken the liberty of arranging for you to see the agreements for yourself. Any questions you or Mr. Digger have can be directed to me directly, or to my legal department. Incidentally, there is an escape clause built into the base agreement. Under normal circumstances, that would leave her liable to repay any expenses she'd incurred under the term of her time with us. However, as she has incurred none, she can still walk away scot free until Monday."

Judy couldn't help herself. "What happens Monday?"

Nick favored her with a winning smile. "Your first sessions with your new voice coach, dance instructor and brand development team."

"My what?" Judy squeaked.

"You are a new talent, but that's no excuse. I intend to take you to the top of the charts and that means work. It starts in four days. Expect a lot of it."

"Mister Wilde," her mother's voice cut through the shock of the situation. "This all sounds very good and we're pleased that you're being so accommodating, but this is all a bit much."

"How do we know she's going to be a success?" At least her father was sounding less openly hostile. That was something.

Nick's voice turned cold and a little conceited. "Mister Hopps, if she didn't have the talent to succeed, she'd still be crooning in that disgusting club, trying to make ends meet while fending off the owner's wandering paws. If you want reassurances, look into my label. Our success rate is excellent."

"Alright, fo- um, Wilde. Tell me the truth. Do you really think she can make it?" Judy was astonished to hear a tiny drop of hope in her father's voice.

"I didn't get to where I am by taking charity cases, or wasting my time with mediocrity. Your daughter has talent and drive. With my help, she'll be a star."

In the wake of the fox's cold certainty, Judy found it hard to breathe. No one had ever expressed faith in her like that. Not even close. It was the first moment she'd ever felt real hope since leaving home. His follow-up statement made her world bend.

"Incidentally, Mister Hopps, thank you for rushing that special order I placed the other day. Apparently, a little taste of home was just what Judy needed. You'll be getting more orders shortly from our chef."

Nick regretted walking away the moment he did. Even if it was the wisest choice, all he wanted to do was rush back to where his bunny, the one female he'd ever loved, stood. He wanted to scoop her up and reassure her that everything she wanted from him was hers. Was always hers and always had been.

The rational side of him kept control of the reins, however, for which he was grateful. He needed to know if her feelings were her own and not just some romanticizing of the past her mind had forged. As much as he wanted her, his heart wasn't going take another blow like before, again. It couldn't—Not if he wanted to survive. His mind made up, he resolved to keep his distance for the time being until they sorted their feelings out.

It was a good plan, a solid plan, he felt...a plan that started to crumble the moment he heard the music. It drifted over the water and surged through his mind. It was everything he'd been without—her voice and soul, as much as her presence. It hurt.

As silently as he could Nick lowered himself to sit, leaning against the mast. He sat and listened until the guitar went silent and her siren song vanished into the cooling air. He kept himself pressed there against the cold metal, long past moonset and into the dark of the night. When he finally laid down on his pallet at the bow he counted the stars, wishing they were sheep and failing to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N:

This one has been owed an update for far too long. We are almost to the end, though, so please bear with me.

My thanks go out to the following:

BlueberryandHoney for soundboarding & co-writing.  
Damlone & kt_valmiri for beta reading.  
OnceNeverTwiceAlways for editing.

If you're interested in supporting this or any of my other writing, you can buy me a coffee. Check out the link in my profile for more details.

On we go!

* * *

Judy passed a fitful night in her cabin. Uncertainty gnawed at her, but there was at least a small ray of hope in her situation. If she was honest with herself, this strange second chance was more than she deserved. If she was _really_ honest with herself, it was more than either of them deserved. Her music had helped her release the emotional maelstrom that was raging inside her, but wasn't enough to quiet her mind completely. There was a lot that she wasn't sure of still.

They were both idiots, after all. Assumptions, silence, and doubt on both sides had cost them a lot of good time that could have been spent better. However, listening to the water lap the side of the boat, Judy had a small revelation. She regretted his absence over the last four years, but not what those years had given her. A career, her dream….

 _More money than I'd ever conceived of…_

As she thought about it, she'd been more than a little naïve to presume everything would be fixed in an afternoon. They'd been apart for a long time. Getting reacquainted before falling into each other's arms was probably not a bad thing. The fox's hesitance was probably wise. She still hated it.

In that moment, there was one thing she wanted. More than anything, she wanted him in her life. She loved him. She wanted him to be hers. The fox she'd been unconsciously pining over. For four years…

She regretted his absence, but those years had been good to her. In reality, she wouldn't be where she was if he'd been with her. It wasn't the right time for them when they'd met.

The self-assurances ran hot and fast through her mind, some true and some not. Finally, in the darkest reaches of the night, she admitted that none of her rationales made a difference. The past couldn't be changed. She needed to focus on the here and now.

 _Wherever here and now is…_

Judy pulled on a pair of light shorts and a tank top before trotting out of the cabins and into the company of her fox.

"Nick!"

"Carrots. Good of you to join me," he said without looking down.

Judy nervously smoothed her clothes and took a seat. "You could have gotten me up before setting off."

"You really want me leaning over you first thing in the morning?"

"If I say yes, will I get it?" Her light tease earned a smile. It was small, but enough. "When will we make it to Antigua?"

He shrugged. "About ten days."

"What?!"

He looked at her with a smirk. "Are you in a rush?"

"Wha—No…. I thought you said we'd be there today."

"And I changed my mind. One of the privileges of being the captain," Nick replied, grinning smugly. "Especially when the passenger doesn't have a destination."

Judy settled back in her seat, relieved to have more time. "I'm where I want to be."

"Then we'll go where the wind takes us for a bit."

That day passed in quiet companionship, which suited Nick just fine. Days of quiet were the reason he lived on the water. It had been his salvation, his escape. The whole ocean was a moat around his little floating castle. It gave him all the space he needed to live his life and avoid the pain. Only now, when the source of his pain had come to him, did he realize he hadn't been avoiding his hurt. He'd been wallowing in it and pretending he was better off with the sea between them.

Now, she wasn't miles of water away. She was right there, on his boat. His castle on the waves was now a prison. He couldn't escape or avoid it anymore. The hurt was there and undeniable. That made things challenging, especially around dusk.

Dinner was a rushed affair. Simple food and satisfying, but made with none of his usual lackadaisical indifference. The quiet was somehow more pressuring than anything else. It felt like he was gently sinking and every moment that passed the pressure increased as he fell deeper. Nick had no desire to speak. The sounds of the sea and his little floating kingdom were familiar background noise. Her presence, however, changed everything. The creaks and splashes he long ago had learned to ignore became grating. Frustrating. It wasn't until dusk had settled into the last gloaming light before proper night fell that he understood why.

He had originally decided to make a pallet for himself on the bow. It was something he did when there were passengers. They got the cockpit and cabins, while he got as far away from them as possible. He had his cabin for inclement weather, but given a choice he preferred a night under the stars. In this case, he had plenty of interest in maintaining the same distance. Laying back on his little pile of towels in nothing but a pair of shorts was exactly what the doctor usually ordered.

When the music hit his ears, he was an addict relapsing.

All the memories came back.

Long nights and midnight jam sessions, early mornings and lunch-hour serenades—every moment in all the years they'd worked together where her music had gotten to him. All the times he'd tried so hard to pretend he'd forgotten. He'd known that first night that she was something magical. It wasn't until about a year after they'd signed the contract that he noticed it was more.

At first it was slow. Her music was what he'd reached for as he made his coffee and the last thing he'd heard at night. It made perfect sense. She was his pet project. Every day, she had recording samples or vocal exercises that he had reviewed. He'd had to. His career, label, and reputation had all hinged on her that first year. All of his other clients were reliable or shifted elsewhere. He'd only had her to focus on and she was a lot of work.

By the end of that first hectic year, things had stabilized a little. She'd progressed enough that he was able to breathe a little easier. The reports were fewer and milestones were less worrisome. His job had gotten easier. His listening had no longer _needed_ to be her music for the whole day. He could have listened to whatever he'd wanted to—only hitting the highlights of her stuff when necessary—and he wouldn't have potentially ended up destitute. It had been a relief of sorts, but his listening choices hadn't changed.

At first, he'd told himself it was habit. He'd been used to it for so long that it was second nature. Of course, he'd listen to her music. Four months later, that excuse had sounded too hollow for him to ignore. Live recordings from her shows were on his playlists and he'd found himself frequently seeking them out instead of waiting for them to show up.

About two and a half years into their working relationship, Nick had had to admit he had a problem. It was during one of their rare breaks that the truth finally came home to roost. He'd been sitting on the balcony of her apartment after a show, nursing a glass of wine and coming down from the adrenalin high. The performance had gone well, and they'd made it back to debrief shortly after two in the morning.

Judy plunked down in her seat faking a calm that he saw through without opening his eyes. "So, Slick…. How'd it go?"

"Well…" Nick had lazed his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "We didn't quite get a full house this time, but the merch table got a lot of action."

"That's good, right?" She'dJudy asked uncertainty.

"Yes, Carrots. It's good. You're showing steady improvement and your following is growing."

Judy had huffed a sigh of relief. "Good."

Nick had laughed. "What are you worried about? I promised to make you a star. You're halfway there. Another year and you'll be rubbing elbows with Gazelle and Camel Bent at the ZMA's."

She'd fiddled with her paws. "I hope you're right."

"Oh, ye of little faith... You're a world ahead of where you were at that ratty little cabaret." He'dhe sipped his wine and set the glass down. "In three months, we're meeting with the main studio for your first full album and, from there, the sky's the limit!"

Her giggle had been music to his ears. "Alright, oh Talent Agent Supreme. If you're so confident in our success, maybe you'll give me your opinion on my latest song."

Nick had felt his heart rate spike. Between a new song and the phrase "our success" he was as close to high as he'd ever been. He'd tried desperately to convince himself it was just the lingering thrill of the show or the wine that was getting to him, but, deep down, he'd known he was addicted. He was addicted to the song and the soul of the pretty little rabbit strumming her guitar and fretting over their success.

The tension left his muscles. An ache he had been nursing in his heart grew tenfold with each strum of the grey rabbit's guitar. This was what he'd been missing. This was what he'd been begging for. He was shuffling to his feet and craning his neck to hear her better when her voice was added to the song. His knees went out from under him, and he plopped onto his rear.

Like a sailor to a siren, he was pulled from his little sanctuary at the bow of the ship. Nick found the strength to stop himself at the mast, using it as an anchor. Her back was to him as she sat, feet propped on the railing of the boat, strumming the guitar and singing with that voice that made every part of him hurt and want at the same time.

Eventually, she put her instrument away and turned in, leaving her host to stare at the stars. It was some time before he finally slept.

Days passed this way. Each day, Nick would take her to a new place. Sometimes, it was just around an island to see a particular beach or across the waterways to visit a port. At others, it was to a particular place Nick knew well and loved. Sometimes, it was nowhere in particular with nothing but each other to chat with. Every day was different, but the nights were always the same. After dinner, Judy would play and he would be helplessly drawn into listening, and every night his seat was closer to the stage.

After a fortnight, Judy asked, "So what's the occasion?"

"Hmm?"

"You're finally sitting across the cockpit from me, instead of anywhere else on the boat." The rabbit set her guitar aside and crossed her legs. "Have I finally charmed the seafaring fox?"

Nick smiled weakly. "You managed that a long time ago, sweetheart."

"Then why this long trip?" she asked with a confused chuckle.

He shrugged, refusing to meet her eyes. "That's simple."

Judy gestured to the wide open space around them. "Indulging your wanderlust?"

"Getting used to you again."

She considered for a moment before nodding and replying, "I'll take that as a compliment."

In response, Nick chortled quietly.

"I know that smug look." She groaned internally, but was too happy seeing another old habit resurfacing. "You know something and I've missed it."

He nodded with a wry smile. "I'm glad you remember."

"So, what's the price? What do I have to do for you to tell me?"

"You've already done it."

"Oh! So no allocution exercises or vocal drills?"

Nick wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you want to do some for old times' sake."

"I'll pass, but thank you for offering." Judy snorted. "So, what do I get?"

His eyes drifted out over the water again. "We went on this little cruise so I could get used to you."

"So you said. What's the rest of it?"

In response, Nick moved to kneel in front of her. "I had to get used to you being here outside of my dreams."

The wonder and hope in her expression was almost his undoing. He'd made his decision, but it wasn't time yet. He allowed himself to caress her cheek with the backs of his fingers before standing. "You'll get the rest of your answer in the morning."

Judy had always been an early riser. Growing up in a farm town, it was a matter of course. Trying to earn a living in Zootopia had only exacerbated the habit of being up to greet the dawn, despite the relatively nocturnal nature of her vocation. When she was starting out, paying rent meant working every hour she could get paid for, and, once her career did take off, it only got worse. Everything that went with success demanded her absence from whatever spot she had called bed at night. Judy had learned to relish her sleep when she got it.

However, with the end of her previous evening she needed very little encouragement to wake up. Thus, when the rich, fragrant scent of coffee tickled her twitching nose and drew her blinkingly out of her dreams, she felt ready to take on the world, despite only sleeping for a couple hours.

As she rummaged through her bag, Judy took a moment to consider her cabin. It was surprisingly clean—bare, except for her bags, a collapsible night stand, and the bed she slept on. The walls were painted a crisp white with worn hardwood flooring. Spartan. She could understand the appeal. An amorous couple looking to get away from everything would have little to distract themselves away from each other. It would also be easier to keep clean.

Her ears shot up when she realized that coffee wasn't the only thing she smelled and there was humming coming from the galley. Throwing caution to the wind, Judy hauled on the first outfit she could lay her paws on. She barely made sure she was properly covered before rushing to the small kitchen just beside the stairs out of the cabin spaces.

Standing with his back to her, wearing a pair of beaten khakis and an unbuttoned floral shirt, was Nick. Two open cans of peaches and a steaming mug sat on the counter next to him while he fiddled with something in the ramshackle skillet in front of him. He took a long sip of his coffee and stirred the skillet again, before picking up a bowl and metal whisk. Silently, the doe crept behind him to peek over his shoulder.

"Home fries…." she groaned in delight.

The todd flashed her a toothy grin as he scooped a potato up with the spatula. "As you may recall, it is my specialty," he responded as she delicately accepted the bite. "And I see it wasn't just me you were missing."

She groaned at the perfectly seasoned potato, mixed with peppers and onions. He laughed at the binky she couldn't hold back. Taking his coffee cup from the counter, she took a small sip and grimaced at taste.

"You should try some coffee with your sugar, Slick." He laughed louder as she shuddered. Setting down the spatula, he reached for the shelf overhead and handed her a fresh mug.

Pouring her own coffee, Judy hid her grin with a sip at Nick's shudder. Unsweetened black coffee was a mortal enemy of the fox and needed to be avoided at all costs. His smirk returned as her eyes landed on the bowls next to him.

"Wilde's Famous Home Fries and canned peaches," she said with a grin. "You sure know how to win a lady's heart."

"With whipped cream. No sugar. Just the way a bunny likes it," he replied with mock disgust.

"You spoil me."

"Nothing but the best for the resident diva." The todd winked at her before gesturing to the cupboard behind her. "Which is ironic. You hate sugar in your coffee, but you adore those canned monstrosities claiming to be fruit."

She pulled two plates from their niche in the cupboard and held them as Nick loaded them with food. She giggled as he heaped a mountain peaches onto hers and smothered them in the cream.

"Mmmm! Peaches soaked in high fructose corn syrup and home fries cooked in oil." She gave an appreciative sniff thate was only partly exaggerated as the fox laughed.

"But they're organic!" he protested, holding up the can. "And they're soaked in water, not corn syrup."

She chuckled again, before turning to set the plates on the small table next to the stove. "The peaches are a taste of home. My mother let us have some every once in a while. Lots of sugar, but a cheap treat for a ton of kits. It helped to keep the homesickness to a minimum after I left home."

Smiling at each other, the pair sat and dug in. They ate in silence, each stealing glances at the other. The events from last night were temporarily pushed to the side, neither mammal wishing to be the one to bring it up first. Judy felt her resistance crumble when her eyes met his.

"Nick—"

"We'll be in Antigua in a few hours," he said around a mouthful of potato.

"What's so important about Antigua?" Judy sipped her coffee to hide her anxiety as she watched the fox's eyes twinkle. "You seem to be in a rush to get there now."

His face was a tangle of faux-calm as he shrugged. "Nothing impressive. Just think you might find the island…entertaining."

The rest of the morning was uneventful. Nick remained at the wheel, giving whimsical answers to any questions that popped in the doe's head. He wasn't being distant or cold. More than once, she had noticed out of her peripheral his gaze lingering on her longer than it should. It made her heart race as much as it infuriated her. Sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes, but their heat radiated through her.

She hid a smile from him that was part giddy delight and part frustrated rictus. She was relieved to see the rapidly approaching land mass at the bow. She was looking forward to an answer or two at last.

"There it is, Fluff." She jumped slightly at his voice being so close to her. He was somehow right behind her, whispering in her ear. "One of the most amazing places you'll ever visit."

"Want to clue me in, Slick?"

With a smirk, he headed back to the wheel. His infuriating silence was the only answer he gave. To soothe her nerves, Judy fetched her guitar. She strummed aimlessly as the island quickly grew closer. It was no real song—more of a medley of songs—to ease her growing anxiety at the elephant in the room.

Another distraction conveniently appeared as the fox at the helm picked up the mic from the radio. "St. John's Harbor, this is The Amaranthine. Roger, Alan. Put down the beer and pick up."

A few sputters from the radio later saw a response. "Nick! Not over the air!"

"Are you still trying to keep your luncheon libation a secret from your wife?" Nick's flat, amused tone told her this was an old conversation.

"Not any more." The voice from the radio sounded sulky. "She's calling me right now. I think she heard you."

"Sorry about that, Al." Nick did not sound repentant in the least. "Any berths available? Overnight docking preferred."

"I'm sorry, Amaranthine. No available slips."

"Come on, Al. She'll forget in a week. If you take her dancing, it'll be tonight."

The dock master's voice sounded just as satisfied as Nick's. "I know, Nicky-Boy. That doesn't open up any more slips."

His face fell. "Are you serious?"

"It's honeymoon season and—"

"I know. I know." Nick released the button to ponder his next words, before pressing it again. "You're

saying there are NO available spots at the moment?"

Alan's voice came a bit clearer on the other end of the radio. "That's correct, Wilde. I'm not scheduled for anyone to leave until noon tomorrow at the earliest. The rest of the slips are privately owned. I can let you know if space opens up. I'd say try the other ports, but I doubt you'll have any better luck."

"Thanks, Al." Closing his eyes, he released a frustrated sigh. As she watched, her fox hauled the wheel around and dropped the sails. The anchor went overboard, tethering them offshore and in sight of the town.

"Looks like we're stuck for a few hours, Fluff." He pointed to a grove of palm trees just on the far side of the sand they were floating across from. "The place we're going is just past the trees."

"You don't have a dinghy?" she asked around a giggle.

"An emergency inflatable one. Otherwise, no."

"What do you have?"

"I won't claim to have rhythm. There's too much evidence for that." Judy snickered. "All the luxuries of aquatic living—waterproof casings on my phone and wallet, spare hardware for the rigging, and all the time in the world."

Judy turned back to the island, eyes scanning the beach with its smooth expanse of sand and inviting palm trees. They dropped to the turquoise water that lay below them, a thought flitting across her mind. A smile crept across her face as she set the guitar to rest in her abandoned seat.

"Can you swim?" She asked, still looking out to the water.

"Can I swim?" He asked incredulously. "Yes, I can swim. Why?"

She turned to grin at him before climbing the railing. With a final look, she dove in.

Camellia Palo was many things. A shrewd business vixen and a gifted baker, for a start. One look at the wall of articles and awards, pictures from appearances on cooking shows, and the busy little shop she ran were proof enough. She was also loyal. Disgustingly loyal, in fact. Once Cami's trust was earned and her friendship gained, one was hard put shaking her off. She was stubborn that way.

In contrast to her virtues, she was not patient. She had developed some patience after working in food service for so long. So when she saw the familiar silhouette of the Amaranthine lay in off the beach by her shop, she didn't immediately get annoyed. Her larger ears perked, her tail started wagging, and her foot started to drum a march on the floor, but she knew she was in for a wait. There was one reason for that boat to drop anchor there rather than head into the port.

Cami had resigned herself to waiting a few hours at the least until she saw a petite female form dive off the boat. She blinked in disbelief as the form she recognized as her favorite fox followed it into the water—albeit with far less dignity.

"Crazy fox," she muttered.

"Fox? Is Uncle Nick here?"

Cami smiled and sighed gently to herself at the little voice behind the counter.

As much as her job demanded patience, adopting her son, Baloo, did far more in cultivating that particular character trait in the tiny vixen. The young rabbit buck had been found wandering the beaches of Willikies alone when he was a toddler—no parents, no records. It hadn't been terribly difficult for Cami to arrange custody and eventual adoption for little buck. She was a respected business mammal with a good reputation and lots of community connections. True, she was a kit fox, but there was something to be said for a long family tradition of vegetarianism. At least when it came to adopting a prey child. She loved her son, but the lad was always a bit more deliberate with his movements then she would have liked. She braced for the assault.

"Is it? Is it Uncle Nick?"

"Yep!" Cami popped the syllable. "Your favorite red fox just arrived at the island."

Baloo looked between the delivery he was boxing up and her. She reached out scratch behind his ears and smiled. "Don't worry, my love. You can say hello before your delivery."

As the fox in question came into view and Cami saw he had someone with him, she amended, "And he'll be staying for a little while."

"He will?"

"He knows better than to run," she muttered darkly.

"Mama?"

With an easy smile, she flicked her son's ear. "You know I won't hurt him, but you know the rule."

He smiled in relief. "You'll hear mama out, or she'll chase you down and make you."

"Good boy," Cami replied as she scanned over the order one more time and set it aside.

"What did Uncle Nick do?"

"Oh, I'm not going to talk to him." The petite vixen's tone was low and focused. "Not yet. He brought someone with him. Her I need a word with."

His face lit up with a grin as his eyes shot to the pair of mammals approaching the shop. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he kept his gaze on them. One tan, little paw pointed out to it as he turned to his mother.

"What's that, Mama?" Cami had been double checking the order when she looked up and gasped. The red fox was smiling. Wholly and unreservedly. While that was a shock, Cami also recognized the rabbit doe who was dripping along next to him.

"An idiot," she grumbled as she stalked towards the sopping duo as they walked up from the beach. "Nick! What on Earth have you gone and done now?"

Soggy, covered in sand, and trailing bits of seaweed, the red fox seemed to deliberately wait until she was close to shake himself dry. She gave cry of disgust, Baloo laughing in delight at his Uncle's antics. His brown eyes suddenly flicked over to the equally soaked and anxious rabbit doe wringing her ears out as she came up next to the todd.

"Walking on the Wilde side," he said with a cheeky grin.

Cami huffed and rolled her eyes at him. Turning her eyes to the rabbit now next her old friend, she narrowed them on her briefly. Nick visited her bakery as often as he could, stocking up on her coffee blends and every blueberry flavored pastry she made. Every time he'd pulled out his wallet to pay, she'd caught a glimpse of the photo that held the place of honor inside it. This was the last proof she needed.

 _So, we meet at last._

"Baloo, baby, head back to the cafe and fetch your uncle and his…friend…some towels." She smiled down at her son who regarded the doe with curiosity before nodding and heading up the short walkway.

"I'll go with him," decided Nick. He turned a sly smile to Judy who gave him an uncertain look. "Keep Cami company, will you, Carrots?"

"Uh, sure," she agreed brightly, nervously noticing the glare being sent her way.

Pausing by the kit fox, he dropped his voice to murmur in her ear. "Play nice, please. I plan on not letting her go this time."

"So I shouldn't scare her?" she muttered back.

"I didn't say that." With a smirk he rushed to catch up with Baloo, who was waiting patiently for him by the cafe door.

After both males vanished from sight, Judy gulped and forced a smile on her face as she held out her paw. "Hi, I'm—"

"Oh, I know who you are," the vixen cut her off. "You're the little starlet that went and crushed that poor todd's heart."

The bunny's ears dropped as her eyes widened. "I—"

"I don't want to hear it!" Cami snapped. Judy looked away as her cheeks flushed red. "I know what happened."

"You do?"

"I had to wring the story out of that red idiot, but yes. His side of it anyway. Nick's been a wreck since what went down with you two. And now what? You waltz back, hoping to just pick up where you two left off?" Cami was barely holding her anger in check. "You've got some nerve!"

"Yes, I do have some nerve!" Cami shut her muzzle, stunned at the doe's sharp response. "I had to in order to find him. I will be the first to admit that I should have handled things differently with Nick. I will never deny that I made a huge mistake by letting him leave."

Judy turned to fully face the kit fox, Cami standing only slightly taller than her. Looking her in the eyes, lavender meeting blue-green, the vixen felt a chill run down her spine at the fire within them.

"We were both stupid, but I was the bigger idiot. While he ran off to hide here, I did the same thing with my career. But at least he knew it. It took a severe slap to the head for me to realize what I'd lost and that every minute of my life without him has been miserable. It didn't matter where I was, whom I was with, how many awards I won or fans I met." Judy's paws clenched. " I will trade all of it, if it means that I can see him every day. I don't care about the fame or the money. It stopped being about that when I realized where he was where I need to be. And just for the record, I didn't waltz back in."

Cami raised an eyebrow, her curiosity getting the better of her. "What did you do then?"

"I snuck up on him and startled him, so he fell in the harbor."

"You what?"

"Not intentionally." Judy fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "I kinda panicked."

Cami's laughter rolled across the beach, and she drew Judy along with her back inside the shop. "That I would have paid to see. Don't think that because you made me laugh that I'm ok with this. You assume too much if you think this will be made right so easily."

Judy was unimpressed. "I'm not assuming anything. All I've asked for is a chance."

"More than you deserve."

"More than either of us deserve, but I can ask for it. That's something." Her nerves were asserting themselves again and the anxiety was building.

The vixen slowed her pace. " _Have_ you asked?"

"Last night. I haven't gotten an answer."

"You haven't—"

"It took me over six years to admit to myself that life isn't right without him." Judy forced some iron into her spine despite her anxiety. "And if you think I'm going to back down, I'm not. I won't give up. I will do whatever it takes to prove myself to Nick and to keep him."

"Promise?"

Cami and Judy both away from each other in surprise.

Nick stood, one paw holding on Baloo's shoulder, the other clutching a fresh towel. The todd took a step closer to the pair, green eyes on Judy as her's drank in the sight of him. The young rabbit buck went to his mother, who enveloped him in her arms. Both grinned at each before focusing on the pair.

"I love you, Nick," Judy whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I know you'll never forgive me. And I don't blame you. I should have been honest with you and not blinded myself with things that would never make me feel as complete as you do. I was a horrible friend and I hurt you. But I will do anyth—"

Nick rushed to her, scooping her into his arms, paws landing lightly on her lower back and head as they pulled her flush with his body. Her own went to grip his shirt as her tears spilled over. Their lips met, neither trying for tender or cautious. Years of repressed emotion, of longing, of self-recrimination melted in that one heartbeat they shared with each other as they kissed for the first time.

"Idiots," muttered Cami as she squeezed her son tightly.

"Who, Mama?"

She grinned down at him and touched his nose with her own. "Both of them, my love." She cleared her throat, catching their attention. "Nicolas, I have a question."

Judy felt rather than saw the tension build in his frame.

The tone was falsely sweet as Cami addressed the taller fox. "Did you make her wait all night for an answer on getting a second chance?"

"Uh…"

Cami shifted Baloo out of her path and moved towards the sample display by the register. "And you brought her here first?"

"In fairness, you made me promise to introduce you if she ever showed up. And I wasn't to commit to anything until then." Nick shifted away from Judy and tried to put a little extra distance between himself and his diminutive friend.

Cami's paw shot to the stand of sample mini-muffins and one bounced soundly off the red fox's head. "That is not how you treat a lady, bandejo!"

"Cami, come on!"

Another muffin bounced off his head. "You fix it first, _then_ come to me so I can put the fear of fox into her!"

"You can still do that!" The fox ducked another muffin.

"Not until I put it in you, you walking bandejo rojo! Stop dodging!"

Judy watched as the tiny vixen chased her todd around the shop, bouncing baked goods off his head and barking things like "you do not make a lady wait that long!", "I don't care why!", and "you ever do that again, I'll turn you into a mop!", along with many other colorful phrases in Spanish and Portuguese. Nick finally scampered behind Judy as another muffin was ready to fly.

Cami relented. "Ay…. You give me grey hairs."

"There's one right here," Nick commented pointing at Judy. He groaned as her elbow met his ribs.

Amusement dripped from her voice as Judy commented, "I'm a rabbit, not a hare."

"Picky, picky."

"Alright," Cami interjected. "Since the estupido zorro has ruined the effect, I'll make this simple. He is my friend. Do not hurt him again."

"I won't," Judy answered seriously.

"You better."

"Or it's death by muffin for you…" Nick stage whispered. Another muffin bounced off his head. "Ow!"

"Alright, you two." The kit-fox baker huffed. "Nick, be a gentlemammal for once and tell me what the lady likes for coffee."

He grimaced and flicked his tongue at the idea. "Black and strong enough to peel paint."

"Good! Finally, a mammal with some taste."

A few minutes later, the doe and todd were seated with coffees and a few choice baked goods. Judy also had a small dish of the mini-muffins at her elbow, compliments of the proprietress. "In case his stupid acts up again."

Once there was some quiet, Judy turned to her fox. "So, is that a yes?"

"Absolutely, one-hundred percent." Nick smirked into his cup.

She thought her chest would burst. "What now?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm not giving up my boat and you aren't giving up your career."

She huffed in amusement. "How's that going to work?"

Nick smiled and pulled out his phone. "This should be interesting."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:

And here we have it! Duet is at an end.

My thanks to OnceNever, Damlone, Blueberry and KT for their hard work.

If you want to support my writing, check my profile for a link to my Ko-fi profile.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

The clatter of a steel drum ringtone rattled through the warm, tropical air. Judy smirked as her fox peeked at the screen and rolled his eyes. She'd become accustomed to the sound and the near-script-worthy conversations that had ensued regularly over the last eight or nine months. They had become routine entertainment for the rabbit, so he had no hesitation before stabbing the answer icon with his finger and flicking it over to speaker.

Before a word could be uttered the caller barked, "Wilde! Baby, where are you?"

"Forty sea miles from port and climbing, Joey."

"Nick, please! You can't do this to me. We had a deal!"

"I've worked under my own terms since we've met. That hasn't changed."

"It changed when you got engaged to a pop music sensation on live television at the ZMAs. Your silent mystique was a seller before. Now, you and the Amaranthine are the hottest commodity in the islands! I'm getting offers worth more than the harbor just for a cruise around the island and I've got to turn them down! You're killing me, here!"

"You can't seriously be telling me you need the money."

"My cut of one of these things would pay my house off. I've got obligations, man!"

"Just cut back on your beer and what you spend on your mistress. You'll be fine."

Before Nick could say anything else a very angry female voice screeched through the speaker. "What?!"

Nick tried to intervene saying, "Lilliana, I was joking!", but it was too late. The sounds of a marital spat echoed across the water until Nick wisely ended the call.

With the call disconnected, Judy was finally able to let out her laughter along with the rest of the passengers.

"Way to go, Slick," She chortled.

He shrugged. "She'll realize I was joking once she's calmed down a little. Joe is as devoted and faithful as they come. She's probably more upset about the beers he'd been sneaking."

"Is she prone to flying off the handle like that?" The speaker didn't bother lifting his head from the deck as he basked in the sun.

"Yes, Raja." Judy replied in Nick's stead. "She's very feisty."

The tiger snorted lightly. "Surprising for a manatee. I always thought they were placid folk."

"Naughty, naughty kitty." Nick admonished with a chuckle. "To make such assumptions about a species."

The tiger lifted a paw just enough to flip Nick off before settling, again. The other three felids chuckled at their fellow dancer, but otherwise didn't move.

"Are you sure they aren't actually liquids?" Nick stage whispered to Judy.

Gazelle poked her head out of the galley. "When it comes to sunlight and warm air, I can't imagine a different response."

"Says the lady who hasn't worn anything but a bikini since we left port a week ago," Nick commented with a grin.

In response, Gazelle winked at Judy and insinuated herself next to Finnick, who still looked stunned. They'd picked up the disgruntled fox from Joey's dock that morning. He'd stepped onboard full of piss and vinegar at the secret trip he'd been forced to make only to lose the ability to speak when they'd made it out of the harbor. The cabin doors had opened to reveal Gazelle and Judy clad for the islands and the big cats who immediately—and wordlessly—laid out towels to go back to recharging their solar batteries. He'd recovered enough to be uncharacteristically polite, but was otherwise completely overwhelmed. The ungulant singer has taken to lightly teasing the little fox at intervals, much to everyone's amusement.

"What's wrong, Finn?" Nick grinned. "Cat got your tongue?"

Another of the big cats raised a one-fingered paw for a moment at the fox's joke as they all chuckled.

"I'm fine, fox," the fennec commented. "I'm just, uh…" His words stalled out as his eyes slipped to the female next to him.

"You're what, big guy?"

"Damn it, Nick, you know I'm a fan!"

The boat burst into laughter.

"I'm sure you're my biggest, too." The singer cooed into his ear.

Finnick blushed and the boat howled, again. "Damnit, Nick I did not fly all the way here to be embarrassed to death."

"No, you didn't," Nick stated as he pulled a cold beer out of the cooler at his feet and passed it to Gazelle.

The beer went from her hoof to Finnick's paw as though the little vulpine was receiving a holy relic. It was amusing to see the little fox so out of his element. Judy chuckled quietly and looked out over the water.

"You ok, sweetheart?" Nick's voice was light, but it didn't mask the concern.

"Have I told you how much I like it when you call me that?" She replied without turning.

"Twice today. Now, what's bugging you?"

"Nothing." Judy smiled up at him. "I'm just… impatient."

"We'll be picking up our final passengers this afternoon. Then, on to our little getaway."

"I find that term interesting." Gazelle commented. "Are you trying to truly escape, or just enjoy a holiday?"

Judy smiled at her friend and collaborator. "That would be telling, Zelly."

The ungulant snorted in amusement. "I appreciate the invitation and the break from my usual busy schedule, but what are you two up to?"

"Nothing untoward, I assure you." Nick raised his paw in a familiar salute. "Scout's honor."

"But where are we going?", the singer persisted.

"Somewhere special," Judy replied. "But first, we have a few hours of sailing to enjoy before St. Martin."

"Oh, very well." Gazelle huffed with a wry smile. "Keep your secrets."

Arriving at St. Martin was a similar event to her previous visit. The rabbit's world was a very different place than it had been ten months ago. In keeping with the changes, she didn't wait for Nick to jump overboard once the anchor was dropped and just shoved him overboard.

"Thanks, Carrots."

"You still don't have a dinghy. How else are they supposed to get out here?"

"One, they're waiting for me to call them so they can head to the pier. And, two, they have a friend who agreed to ferry them out, so we didn't have to worry about docking." He swiped some of the water our of his head fur. "Or swimming in."

Judy shrugged and smiled down at the soggy fox unrepentantly. "Whoops."

"Whoops, indeed."

Gazelle took that moment to join Judy at the railing. "You two are so sweet, it's painful."

"Tell me about it. They're giving me a toothache," Finnick boomed as he joined them. Leaning over the railing, he smirked at his fellow fox and sniped, "I can see who's wearing the pants in this relationship."

Judy and her fellow singer shared a nonplussed look before they struck. Gazelle grabbed the fennec's paws while Judy grabbed his feet and he shortly joined Nick in the water.

When he sputtered his way back to the surface Gazelle leaned down to croon, "You should be so lucky."

Judy laughed out loud as the eyes of both foxes bugged. Nick glanced at Finnick, then her and winked and started paddling towards the stern and its ladder. She offered her paw to help him up and was unsurprised when he yanked her into the water before climbing up. When she rejoined him in the cockpit, he was already dialing Cami. Twenty minutes later Judy was helping to steady a skiff while a pair of familiar faces scrambled aboard.

Judy pulled Cami into a hug as soon as her footing was stable. "Good to see you again."

"And for me, too." Cami returned the hug with gusto.

By way of greeting, Nick ruffled Baloo's fur before shoving the giggling bunny into the water. Cami hip-checked the larger vulpine's knee, wrecking his balance and sending him in after the juvenile bunny moments later. Judy laughed at her friend's antics with the rest of the company.

As Cami was handing over a small bag of mini-muffins, Bhuti—Raja's Himlayan cousin—made the fatal mistake of commenting, "Damn, Wilde. Owned by two short-stacks."

Cami's paw shot into the bag and bounced a muffin off the offending feline's nose. She then walked straight up the big cat's leg, stomach and chest until she was eye to eye with him and said, "Don't think I you won't end up the same if you keep playing the bandejo, stripy one. I've tied pretzels bigger than you. Comprende?"

"We don't need to hear about your sex life, Cami." Nick commented from the ladder and immediately dove back into the water to avoid a flying muffin.

"That fox, I swear. He gets worse every year," the vixen grumbled, blushing slightly.

"Don't mind him." Judy inserted. "He's just nervous."

"Nervous about what, conejo loco?"

Raja cocked his head. "Conego what?"

"Conejo loco." Cami corrected. "Means crazy rabbit."

"Why crazy?"

"She's engaged to that one." She jabbed a thumb at Nick as he toweled off. "She has to be crazy."

"It's a crazy I like," Judy retorted.

"Yes, well," Nick interrupted. "We need to go."

"Go where? What are you up to, Nick?" Gazelle almost whined.

"Only an hour or so and then we have a little waiting to do." Nick held up his paws in surrender. "I promise."

After picking up Baloo and Cami, they'd made sail and headed around the island, out to the middle of nowhere. About 2 hours in, Nick checked his charts and GPS, furled the sails and dropped anchor. Neither she nor Nick had given anyone else a single clue as to what they were doing. All she'd done was ask them all to be patient until the time was right.

The felines had shrugged and settled in to their sunbathing. Gazelle, Finnick and Cami had chatted to pass the time, leaving the todd completely outclassed. Judy had busied herself with doing all the nothing she could with her fox at her side. Floating for four hours was something Judy normally would have hated. A year ago, she'd have been crawling out of her skin with boredom, but now she was a different mammal. Nick had taught her the fine art of letting the waves take her stress away. It gave her plenty of time to think about how she got there.

Nick picked up his phone. "This should be interesting."

"What should?" Judy asked, perplexed.

Rather than answer, Nick held up a finger and let the phone ring. After half a dozen rings, a rather groggy female voice filtered through the phone.

"Whoever this is, I hope you know what time it is so you'll understand why I'm going to kill you."

If Judy was surprised by that, she was stunned when Nick replied. "Hi, Mom."

"Nicky?" the voice was suddenly crystal clear. "Nicky, what's wrong? It's three in the morning! What's happened?"

"I'm coming home for a visit."

Her tone turned snide. "I thought you planned never to come back to the city."

"I didn't," He replied evenly. "Unless…"

"Unless something happened." She grumbled. "Yes, I remember. That… Wait. No…"

"Say hi to my mother, Judy?"

Judy looked at him uncertainly and said, "Hello, Mrs. Wilde."

"You have got to be kidding me."

Nick grinned rapaciously. "Remember what you said, mother?"

"Unbelievable. You called to gloat?"

"And to remind you of what you said. I expect payment when we arrive next week."

His mother groused. "You get your pettiness from your father."

"And my memory from you. Want me to remind you of the terms?"

"No need. I'll pick you up at the airport. Send me your itinerary when you have it."

The line went dead and Judy looked askance of her triumphant looking fox. "What was that?"

"That was me winning a bet with the most stubborn mammal alive," he preened. "When I left, she called me an idiot—Said I was cutting off my nose to spite my face and I'd regret it. She said you were gone and I needed to get over it. Her parting words were, 'if that female you're pining over ever comes back I'll cook for you both for a week'."

Judy shrugged. "So?"

"She's an excellent cook, but hates it with a near-holy passion. The results of being a line-cook for fifteen years, I suppose."

"Wow. So, she really isn't going to be happy to see me." Judy began to nervously wring her paws, but Nick stopped her.

"She's going to love you. She'll be annoyed with me for a bit, but she won't hold that against you."

The return trip had felt like a dream. Meeting his mother, going public with their relationship, announcing she was moving her home studio to the islands—all of those were massive hurdles and well worth the effort. However, nothing compared to seeing him get on one knee as they stood on the red carpet of the ZMAs. The press had lost their mind, but her fox had planned ahead. They'd slipped away into the night courtesy of a couple well-paid security guards and a cabbie who owed Nick a favor. Winning the award for Best Collaborative Album of the Year was the cherry on the cake, even if gazelle had to receive it without her.

A few months of planning and some negotiations later, she was happily splitting her time between the city and the islands. When she wasn't touring, she was floating with Nick around the waterways and when she was on the road, he was with her. Her life was more than she'd ever dreamed of and it was about to get better, still.

Raja lifted his head from the deck and squinted into the distance. "What the hell is that?"

Gazelle was the first to respond, going to the railing and looking over the water. "What do you see?"

"It looks like land."

Nick spoke up as he and Judy joined them. "It is. That's a sandbar that only shows up at low tide. It's why we're here."

Judy couldn't help but hop in place a little.

"They're all over the area." Cami commented from the cockpit. "But why this one?"

"Technically, we're now in Zootopia Protectorate waters." Judy supplied to the increasingly bewildered mammals.

Before anyone asked anything else, a small plane motor broke the silence. Baloo was the first to see it and pointed it out. A few minutes later the aircraft's pontoons touched down and it parked by the exposed sand of the sandbar. Judy couldn't help grin as the capybara pilot dropped a weight off the pontoon to act as an anchor and waded onto the tiny spit of land.

"Judy," Cami asked breathlessly. "Is he wearing a priest's collar?"

She nodded. "And Bermuda shorts."

As the rest of the passengers turned to look at them Nick and Judy slipped over the railing. She paused to smile into their thunderstruck faces. "That's why you're here. You're witnesses."

As she swam the short stretch to her wedding, Judy heard a gleeful mix of cursing, laughter and splashing as her wedding party caught on.


End file.
